#Mello replies

[hellfirebride]

Hey, thinking about it, how do you think Mello and L would react to the person they love confessing to them before they do? Ramble, headcanon list, or combo idc lol :p.

i am looking respectfully fdgfgd just some short little things

L and Mello when you confess first

L

Blinks exactly once before saying "Oh. That makes things easier."

L, honey, baby, sweetie. That is nowhere near an acceptable response to someone putting themselves out there like that to confess their love for you.

The only saving grace here is that if you're confessing to him, you're probably used to how he acts. So it's not much of a shock that his reply would be so... him.

Make no mistake, he's pretty pleased to hear it from you. Maybe even happy, though he doesn't seem particularly surprised. Geez, the least he could do is act like he couldn't already see through you from a mile away.

Mello

"What?" That's the best he can do as a first response.

Look, he always knew you confessing before he could was a possibility. He just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Either way, that wasn't how he would've wanted to react. He would've loved to be smug or at least a little more romantic about it.

He snaps out of it pretty quickly once he sees your face. You don't think he's rejecting you, right? You'd definitely be able to see how red he is when he grins at you.

[thearoaceshark]

How female wammy's boys and the task force be?

I never thought I'd get this question but I like it! I'll take this opportunity to say that if anyone wants to ask me about Death Note go ahead I would love to talk about it.

Warning: A LOT of text below.

First I would like to start with the Task Force (I clarify that I will use she/her for them when I'm talking about their fem version).

To begin with, it would be very difficult for Soichiro to become chief, in fact, I think she would not be chief. Because no matter how good a police officer she is, I doubt they would appoint a woman as police captain, especially a married woman with children. She and Aizawa are constantly questioned about their marriages, they do not believe that someone would be capable of marrying a woman with a temperament like Aizawa's and in their opinion Soichiro, being a mother, should not dedicate herself so much to her work in the police and they do not believe that her husband agrees with being a housewife (Sashiko has NO problem, they talked about it before getting married, she was not going to give up her goal of being a good police officer and he assured that he would support her and when they had Light her husband had no problem dedicating himself to work at home). So, she and the others being women would not have a high rank, but they are known for being good police officers so they earn a position in the Kira case, after everyone resigned and only Soichiro, Aizawa, Matsuda, Mogi and Ukita were left, L called them to work with her and named Soichiro, Chief Yagami (because she's L and she can do that).

For the rest, Aizawa is strongly criticized by her colleagues, being a married woman with children, it is not well regarded that she has such a strong character and be a police officer, many do not believe that she seriously has a stable relationship with her husband and daughter. However, she remains strong in the face of criticism, she wants to make the world a safer place and be a good figure for her daughter. She has great admiration for Soichiro and always wanted to be friends with her. When she returned to the Task Force they were able to get to know each other better and often bring both families to have dinner together. Soichiro and Ide also admire her, Soichiro for the good relationship she has with her family compared to her, because she feels that she is distancing herself from them, and Ide admires her for her hard-working personality, her great strength, conviction, and how she fights for justice, she considers her her best friend and for a time she had a crush on her.

Matsuda, oh my god, imagine all the times they criticize Matsuda but more frequently and the phrase "you had to be a woman" or "silly girl", and a little harassment from others police officers. They also criticize her even more for not having a partner. She is always told that she will never get a boyfriend as a police officer. Many times before the Kira case she would go home and start crying because they were very rude to her at work, until the Kira case started and she met Soichiro, she became an example figure for Matsuda, she admires and respects her a lot and tries hard to help her in the case. In the same way Soichiro made her her protégé when she noticed that she was being harassed by some of her coworkers. She and Misa would be BFF!! When they were investigating Takada and Light offered to get information out of her at first she thought it was a good idea but then she realized it and said "Hey, wouldn't that be cheating on Misa-Misa?!" Light managed to calm her down and convince her that it wasn't, but she still has doubts about it. Also, when Light begins his "act to use Takada" she notices that he says many phrases that her ex-boyfriends said to her when they were unfaithful, that made her feel very disappointed in Light but she convinced herself that It was for the investigation. Light's manipulation affected her a lot, she really liked him, a few years after the Kira case her friends convinced her to go to a psychologist.

Mogi was also criticized but thanks to her strong physique she gained a reputation faster than the others. They criticize her for her physical appearance but they don't dare to say it out loud, they are afraid of her. After the time skip when she has to be Misa's bodyguard she has more trust with her than in canon and sometimes they sleep together, mostly because Mogi has to console her because sometimes she got sad for Light, intrusive thoughts at 12 o'clock in the morning. It was a surprise to everyone to find out that apart from exercising, her other hobbies are poetry and watching TV dramas, and they were also surprised that she knew how to cook so well.

I don't know what things would change in Ide and Ukita. But them like with the others would be criticize a lot.

Now, the wammy boys if they were girls. The Wammy Girls. I believe that the Wammy's system would not discriminate against students based on gender (especially if L is female), but that does not mean that the orphanage children do not do it. I mean before they came to Wammy's they were normal citizens and their parents were raising them based on the system, so the kids would treat each other like they were taught by them. In other words, girls would not suffer discrimination in the educational system, but they would suffer social discrimination by other children (and from employees too)

We start with L, her attitude doesn't really change much, but they criticize her even more. "Why does a woman waste the best years of her life solving crimes?" "A lady doesn't dress like that, doesn't sit like that, or behave like that" "If you want to scare men away, you're doing a good job." Phrases she heard from the orphanage caretakers when she was a child at Wammy's. Anyway, she doesn't see the point, she knows that she is very far from fitting into the unwritten norms of society, and it doesn't bother her. It's L, she can do whatever she wants. Light definitely underestimates her, he believes that he can manipulate her like other women, and because of that several times puts himself between a wall and a sword. I literally think she would catch Light with no problem, because he would make his own grave by underestimating her (honestly, I think the Yotsuba Arc wouldn't even happen, or it would happen but different from the one we know). "The Nile is a river in Egypt, I'm 99.8% sure that your boyfriend is gay" phrase that she wanted to say to Misa but she didn't because according to Watari it would be very rude.

Mello, my queen, beautiful, smart, goddess. Aesthetically she wouldn't change much, I've seen that in some fanarts she has longer hair and a curvier body, and she looks just as beautiful, but honestly that's not necessary to make Mello more feminine. There is a lot of talk about Near looking very androgynous but there is no talk about Mello also not looking like a specific gender either, they look feminine but also masculine, and they slayed. She would have a lot of difficulty in the mafia, and she would suffer a LOT of harassment and sexism, until she became known for having no fear of tearing off heads and the gangsters began to be afraid of her. "You should smile more, you would look even prettier" "Why do you want the black dress? Wouldn't you like that pink one with flowers? Or that princess one over there?" "You're a girl, you can't play soccer with us, girls are bad" "A lady shouldn't talk like that," phrases she often heard. She likes girly things but when she was little she started rejecting them after some kids made fun of her for it, she started acting more masculine to be "strong" but they also made fun of her for it. In the end, when she grew up and surpassed that stage, she realized that they were going to criticize her no matter what she did, so she decided not to give importance to people, she began to dress more feminine, but without leaving the masculine. I feel that her desire to surpass Near, and have power is greater, she wants to show that she is capable of surpassing them all, Wammy's as an institution do not discriminated her, but her classmates did underestimate her a lot and she wants to shut their mouths by becoming in a powerfull figure (L or mafia leader whichever comes first).

Near, oh dear. When people saw her for the first time they thought she is very pretty, but then all her beauty is overshadowed by her attitude. In their words, she could be a very pretty girl and when she grows up she could get a good man, if she stopped that "strange" personality of hers. "You're a girl, sit properly" "You're very pretty, but you'd be even prettier if you smiled more" "Boys would like you if you acted more normal" "Near that's bad manners" "You're going to get wrinkles from being so serious" (that last one is courtesy of my mom, or at least she's the only person I know who says that). When she asked the staff at Wammy's to buy her toys she was thinking Legos, trains, robots, action figures. But they bought her dolls, stuffed animals, and a tea party set. She liked the stuffed animals but she didn't even pretend to be happy with the dolls and tea party set, in her words the dolls weren't even pretty (which shocked the staff at Wammy's because they were quite expensive porcelain dolls). Months later the children were taken to a store to pick out some toys and she was finally able to get the Legos she wanted, Roger told the employees to buy those types of toys for her. She resents having her hair brushed and once she make a tanstrum about it, they told her "Well, if you don't want to brush it, then cut it!" and she decided to cut her hair. It was a difficult decision because she liked her hair. When she grows up she decides to let it grow again, she brushes it herself from time to time, but it bothers her if others do it. If Light wasn't captured by L, and Near and Mello have to catch him, Light wouldn't underestimate N and Mello... Until he finds out that they were both women, and he only became more misogynistic than he already was after the time skip so. "I didn't want to bother giving unnecessary information for the case, L, but I will tell you that even if I am 18 years old I am perfectly qualified to be in charge of the SPK. I mentioned it because in our calls you seem to repeat very often that I am a young girl wasting her time. Please, don't do that anymore, I'm fine" something that Near had to say to Light in one of their calls. The SPK members would be super outraged to be led by a girl, especially one who looks so childish, but they wouldn't have time to complain because well, Mello+Death Note would happen.

For Matt. "Why does a girl play video games?" "You know a lot about cars to impress men, right?" "A lady doesn't sit like that" "You should have shaved" "Someday you will find a man who will make you feel the woman you are". She never felt like she fit into feminine for two reasons, one, she liked boys' things, two, she didn't think feminine suited her. She believed that she didn't fit in with feminine things, so she rejected them. "You should like more feminine things" Matt is sure that person didn't mean that she should like women, but that person should have thought twice before saying that to a lesbian. She doesn't dislike makeup, but she doesn't wear it and doesn't know how to do makeup. Once Mello helped her put on a little makeup.

Now, I know this has already been a lot of text, but I'm going to include Beyond, and A in this talk.

For A, I think that if L were still a man, she would feel even more pressure to success him, not because of L but because she hears the staff at Wammy's talk behind her back. She hears them underestimate her even though she is first in line, saying things like "The other children take L's role very lightly" "Are you sure she's number one?" "I don't think she's fit to succeed L." She would try to fight to prove them they are wrong but in the end she couldn't handle the pressure. If L were a woman, it would be strictly forbidden to treat successors differently because of her gender, she would have more support and could endure a little longer, but the end would be the same.

Beyond that, if L were still a man I can see her trying to look more masculine, but that's all. When people see her they think she is a witch.

Sorry if it's too long, I got a little excited hehe. I hope that answered your question, feel free to ask again if you want Anon! Have a good day 💖

(2nd part with fem! Light)

[vorareromantic]

i thought about making a mello and near rug but like. thats so much work. that will be a later project though for sure

[xenospiza]

hiii <33 your art is adorable!! 🥺 I was wondering if you could draw either some lawlight or FtM mello x Matt , (I head cannon mello as FtM) XD 😖your art is super super pretty and I totally understand if you can’t lmao, take care ❤️❤️❤️🥰

hey thanks!! ive been planning on drawing a few of the common ships ive seen around (which already included lawlight) so ill for sure add ur Mello and Matt request to the list!!! love the ftm hc btw, i can totally see that for him (*^^*)

to anyone else interested in me showing specific headcanons, ships, or both at once, feel free to request em! As long as its not anything weird or suggestive i dont mind :3

[attroxx]

❛ @mellodiies said . . . "I will always protect you" / mia… ❜

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 ? it's such a big promise to suddenly say without much warrant for it to begin with. but when mia looks at him she can tell he's genuine. she'd heard those words before from many people but not once had it really felt like they meant it . . . not until now. but the princess feels that familiar guilt creeping up the back of her neck. why must so many people risk their well being to protect her ? how was that fair ? of course her status played into it . . . she can't ignore that. but mia can't exactly tell why mello would say such a thing. did he really consider their friendship that special ?

❛ while i really appreciate that mello . . . i will work to be someone who you don't need to protect. maybe i can protect you too . . . ❜ the princess offers a small smile. ❛ who is supposed to protect you if you're protecting everyone else ? ❜

send "i will always protect you" to see my muse's reaction.— accepting.

[winxerblink]

To this person : Bold of you to assume that I didn't listen to 'The Great War' lol. That's my favorite song from Midnights ( Thank you Aaron Dessner ) .

The song has Meronia vibes but its too epic for them lol . Maybe it could be from Mello's pov . Oh no maybe I should make smth 'The Great War' related for them . ( I can't promise anything whoops ) thx for everyone giving a smol swiftie attention

[theolivetree123]

Rev up your engines, it’s time to…

🏁 Race for the Cookie Cup! 🏁

(More below the cut)

🫐Event Summary🍒

You, Grim, Ace, and Deuce decide to visit a new arcade that recently opened up in the town not far from NRC. There, you meet up with Ruggie, Epel, Silver, and Idia, who have all taken interest in a specific game in the corner of the arcade. The game is called Sugar Rush! Since there's two arcade machines, Ace challenges Deuce to one round of the game, and whoever loses must pay for the other's lunch. Deuce unsurprisingly accepts, and they begin their match. Midway through their match, however, the game suddenly glitches! You and the gang all think the game is broken until a flash of light comes from the arcade machines. Next thing you know, all 8 of you are somehow inside of the racing game, Sugar Rush!

To escape this sweet nightmare, you must win the next grand prix and obtain the Cookie Cup! But, uh oh. Ace and Deuce are having a bit of a squabble. It seems like you guys are going to have to split into two separate teams!

For this grand prix, Deuce will be accompanied by Silver and Idia as...

Team Bluepuff!

And Ace will be accompanied by Ruggie and Epel as...

Team Redpop!

Which team will you choose?

🏁Rules🏁

Everyone is allowed to race! Whether it's your OCs, yuusonas, or, heck, even rope your favorite canon NRC/RSA student into this mess! Everyone is welcome to participate in the mess that Ace and Deuce started.

You can participate in this event by making custom cards, general fanart, fanfics, whatever! Just no NSFW, please. This is a PG racing game!

If you decide to make anything for this event, please tag me and use #🍪rftcc. I'd love to see what you make!

And finally, this event has no deadline, so feel free to participate whenever!

🏁Outfits and Carts🏁

Since you will be racing, make sure your outfit is fit for the job! Make sure your character has a jersey, gloves, and a sweet theme!

For your character's theme, make sure it is based off of some sort of candy or sweet treat! The character must also have a matching cart, as well (if you're drawing them with one, that is). Try to stay away from actual candy brands, though! We wouldn't want a lawsuit on our hands!

The characters listed in the summary have their own cards and outfits! I listed them below so you don't accidentally copy their theme.

SSR Deuce (Blueberry Pie)

SSR Ace (Cherry Pie)

SR Ruggie and Epel (Donuts and bubblegum)

SR/R Idia and Silver (Slushies and marshmallows)

Also! If you're making a card, you may use the blank cards below!

🏁Racers🏁

Team Bluepuff

🍋Yuya Florence by @cheerleaderman

🍪Dias Feathenfool by @beezonia

🍓Robyn Starling by @pinkskytwst

💝Reese Kingbit by @kickasscentral

🍋Flori Mohn-Prinz by @bunniehunn

Team Redpop

💍Ryuuni by @rini-rambles

🎂Narcissa Viperoné by @beezonia

🍍Saya Starling (ART) by @pinkskytwst made by @dilatory-replies

🧸Cerise Fanfare by @0kiwisalad0

🎄Humm by @xxoomiii

⚫️ Leon Lynch by @readsrandomstuff67

🏁Fanart🏁

A little comic from @mello-bee

Art of the crew by @spade-12

Ruggie doing donuts by @mirioho

Ruggie fanart by @cheshanoneko-draws

🏁Fanfics🏁

Bet on the Teleportation by @spadecentral

🏁I look forward to seeing what you create!🏁

[chuulyssa]

“ready for our date yet?”

“shut up,” you replied. “it’s only mcdonalds.”

“it’s a mcdonalds date!”

“no, it’s not. and i have to change,” you said, fully aware that when you bent over to find something to wear from your clothing rack, his eyes were on your curves, his jaw clenched, and his lips drawn into a little smirk.

DAZAI GOJO vanitas SANJI denji lmaoo ZENITSU miroku JEAN nikolai mello MATT eren TOJI

[luvfy0dor]

Soft Touches 'Nd Stuff ♡⁠˖

Warnings; Suggestive, cursing in a/n, I still only write specifically for BSD, my friends suggested characters from other fandoms, so credit to them; @ilovechuuy4 and @yaeeko and others not on tumblr

Description; Sleepy morning affection ;3

Imagine laying in your bed with the sunrise visible through your window, dying the sky a pretty wash of pink, oranges and yellows all blended together. Your boyfriends arms are wrapped around your waist with his head burrowed in the crook of your neck and his chest rising and falling against your back. You mindlessly kept your eyes fixated on the rising sun while you waited for him to wake up, taking deep and steady breaths and basking in the peace and silence. Five minutes passed before you could feel his hand rub from your waist to your thigh and his breath on your neck, making you nearly shiver. "Mm.. goodmorning." He whispered, his voice scratchy from sleep. He momentarily rolled onto his back to stretch, kicking you while he stretched his legs and took on a starfish position. Once he felt physically refreshed, he curled right back up to you and kissed your cheek. "Goodmorning." You reply, reaching back to entangle your hand in his hair. "I had the funniest dream about you, last night.." he whispers with an audible grin, and his hands slide down your tummy to your abdomen. You let out a sigh, feeling his ticklish fingers against your skin. "Yeah? Was it really funny?" You ask, a little skeptical. He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. "Maybe not funny, but definitely fun." He leans forward to kiss along the back of your neck, his fingers hooking around the waist band of your pajama bottoms. "Can I show you what we did?" His voice sent more shivers down your spine, squirming in place and nodding. "Mhm.." you let his hands into your pants, feeling them start to touch you where others never had, and never would so long as he gets a say. His excitement was evident as you grinded your ass against his hips needily. "Perfect. When I'm done with you, you'll be glad I decided to tell you about it, sweetheart."

→ Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Tachihara, I wrote this w/ Fyodor in mind but idrk, Belphie, Mello, Heizou, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Wriothsley, Alhaithem, Oikawa, Gojo, Jean, Gallagher, Blade, Boothill, Sampo, Aventurine, Argenti nd your favs!!

A/n; hey chat sorry for the disappearance!! I had to take the AP World History Exam today!! It wasn't terrible to be quite fair!!! (it wasn't a cold war leq like I desired) (what the fuck was that dbq) (I'm going to kill myself) (not seriously obviously)(update from August chat i got a 5 im so dramatic)

[ryescapades]

juno | wind breaker

— in which endo accidentally (or is it) discovers about your crush on him.

characters: endo yamato x gn!reader contents: fluff, petname (princess), some teasing, lovesick!endo ?? one(1) hint of possessiveness and violence, possibly OOC a/n: first wbk fic and it's for endo .. help what have i become /lh not proofread‼️ idk what's happening here ngl 1k wc

"well, well... look who do we have here,"

amusement seeps in to the cold evening air around you, drawled out by a voice you're all too well acquainted with. you startle, the cool evening air causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin.

knees pulled to your chest, you turn your head to see endo strutting to your little spot on the park bench, all in his tank top and loose checkered shirt glory. you immediately glance away lest your eyes decide to indulge themselves in the inked swirls on his stupidly toned arms.

endo stops just a few steps away from the bench, looking down at you with that peculiar look of fascination reserved just for you.

"why the long face, princess?" he catches your gaze, and you grimace slightly at the nickname he'd insisted on calling you. "what are you doing here?" you ask instead.

his little grin widens as he takes the last few steps, occupying the empty seat beside you. you tense, suddenly aware of the gap between you two. it's a decent amount of space, but you'd never felt so smothered before.

"i can ask you the same thing. shouldn't you be heading home by now? it's pretty late. don't want you getting kidnapped by a delinquent or something," he quips, and the jest doesn't pass by you as you let out a small huff. "i'll get going soon. just need a moment,"

endo glances at your passive form; chin tucked in between your knees and arms wrapped around your shins, your fingers fidget with the fabric of your long sleeves. he notices the troubled look on your face, obviously. as much as he loves teasing you, he's also curious about what's going through your mind right now.

he leans back, getting himself comfortable and draping one tatted arm over the back of the bench. "spill your thoughts, princess. heard that's an easy way to deal with problems,"

a faint blush forms on your face then, reminded once again of your current dilemma as you snap your head to give him a reply but you falter when you catch sight of his figure.

your blush deepens. too caught up in your head a few minutes ago, you failed to notice that he's manspreading beside you.

endo subtly perks up, your flustered state never a dull view to his cerulean orbs. "oh?? what's gotten you so red like that, huh?" you audibly click your tongue at the call out. "you're worsening my mood, endo,"

he chuckles at your glare, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug. "sorry, sorry. i was just trying to help. really," is what he's saying, but the mirth is still heavily laced in his lilted tone.

your mind wanders again, though your scrutinizing eyes never drops from him before you relent begrudgingly. low as the leaves rustling in the breeze, you mutter almost incoherently, "someone confessed to me,"

halting, endo's smirk drops only for a second before that sly smile appears on his face again, your words slowly but surely registering in his head. "you didn't know how to handle it, did you?" he concludes.

you sputter, not expecting him to guess something so correctly. "i-i was— he didn't—" the ravenette barks out a laugh and the embarrassment just multiplies inside you. frustrated at his frivolity, a drawn out groan escapes from your mouth, "god, you're annoying!"

"whaaat? i just find it funny that someone like you gets shy over some measly confession," he muses, causing you to gape at him offendedly. "what does that even mean?" you grit out, "the guy confessed and didn't even let me say anything. he just... said he's willing to wait however long and immediately left! how was i supposed to react to that?" you squawk, finally having had enough of bottling it up.

there's a short snicker before it mellows out to a hum. "so? what's actually the issue then? have you decided an answer yet?" he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow.

your pulse quickens, the crease in your forehead deepening in agitation as you awkwardly glance around the empty park save for the two of you. "yeah, w-well... i kinda..." you're mumbling under your breath at this point, "have a crush on someone else,"

you never expected him to hear, given how quiet your voice is, but unfortunately for you, nothing gets past his perusing senses. nothing about you, at least.

you're lucky your scouring gaze falls on him, for you get to catch the telltale sign of him wanting to get a cheeky comment out. quickly, you scramble to kick away the pyre before a flame is even lit up.

"i'm not telling you who it is!" you sneer.

endo grins, jet black curls brushing his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. his next question comes out promptly, "why? is it me?"

...whelp, looks like the pyre is already burnt to crisp.

"wha—" speechless and immensely mortified, your mouth gapes open and close yet no proper words spill out. it's also not helping that your whole body just seems to burn hotter than the sun, tinges of crimson creeping up to your cheeks and ears like it's nobody's business.

the man in front of you blinks once, twice, before his lips slowly tug into a cheshire smile. his eyes feast on your red cheeks, the organ rapidly beating in his chest literally singing at the endearing sight.

your skin is too hot, clothes too icky, dignity too lost to be found. you clamber to your feet, grabbing your bag on the ground as you turn away from him. "i'm going home," you give your parting words, albeit in a hushed whisper before you rush off, leaving behind an awestruck man who's still reeling from the whole conversation.

an inked hand reaches up to cover the bottom half of his beaming face, a breathless chuckle warming up his palm. gingerly, he opts to cover his whole face with both his hands instead as he feels his own cheeks tinting with that familiar pinkish hues. "fuck," he grunts.

if only you knew how much, much more infatuated he is by you, now growing tenfold after confirming you're just as captivated by his untamed and roguish charm.

surely you won't mind that he's planning to act out on the split second of bloodlust that manifested itself inside his gut after hearing about the confession, yeah?

me running away from the "endo wouldn't do/say this!!!" comments 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

anw what's wrong with guys and their slutty off-shoulder clothes huh

@maruflix @pixelcafe-network @17020 @stunies (dunno who else wanna be tagged in my future wbk works so yea)

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[starryeyedconstellations]

Mello could feel his face heating up. Maybe he wanted to go to the nurse, after all. Just to get out of this situation and cool off. "More like...someone who's always stealing my shit ruined my day. *Again*." As if his day didn't already begin on a sour note. If he'd been told once, he'd been told a hundred times: getting a maximum of three hours of sleep most nights never ended well. Unfortunately, it was hard to learn that lesson when everyone else was on the receiving end of the consequences. It was easier to blame Poppy for doing something that both annoyed him greatly and didn't matter in the grand scheme of things rather than take personal responsibility for his poor choices. "Invited, huh?" he repeated flatly, shooting an accusatory glance at Matt. "Are you guys trying your best to piss me off?" "I actually thought, maybe, having someone who isn't me around would encourage you to do something less self-destructive. Or generally destructive." Matt stepped forward and grabbed his Gameboy from the grass. He switched it on as he continued to talk, seeming more comfortable now that he had an excuse not to look directly at anyone. "But, you just couldn't resist." "If you're implying I started it - " "I'm only implying that we can never go two whole days without a 'Mello Incident'," Matt interrupted. He wouldn't say it bothered him that Mello didn't play well with others, but it was always obvious it did. Mello scoffed. "Whatever. I'll pretend you didn't say that." He turned to Poppy again, arms crossed and face just barely tinged with red. "Well, I hope you didn't just come here hoping to steal my chocolate. I kind of...need you to do something for me." Matt grinned. He knew Mello too well. That was why he had to invite Poppy to hang out with them.

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Sure." Only Matt plops himself down on the grass beside her, she moves closer to take a peak at the game he was currently playing. "What level are you on now?" She quietly listens to the light banter, green orbs locked onto the screen, watching it's movements. She may not look it, but she enjoyed video games as well. That's how her and Matt became friends in the first place. The ginger haired girl only looks up at the blonde when he finally addresses her again. Neutral expression soon shifting to one of genuine surprise at his words. "You... need my help?" She would say slowly, briefly glancing at the red-haired beside her to see if Mello was joking. "Okay... what do you need me for?" She wearily asks.

Starter for @predictabletragedy

Wammy’s house was its usual busybody. Halls clustered, childern chattering, books and papers in hands or bags.

Poppy was much the same, the lastest addition of book her level had been called to evaluate stuffed into the stickered, dark blue bag that bumped against her legs with each step she took.

She had already read through ten of the captures, and possibly would have still been doing so if Matt hadn’t slipped her a note that said the he was ditching his last class of the day if she wanted to hang out- along with Mello.

Of course he pulled the redhead along into his scheming. Still. It was better than being couped up in her room all day. The sun was bright and shiny, the perfect time to go outside.

Her laced black shoes clattered against the well titled steps, making her way towards the big tree that say on the hill with the big tree, a small wooden swing tied to a big branch.

There were signs of the two, Matt’s gameboy on the ground, along with a few books. Mello must of dragged him off to be a jerk. Green eyes lightly rolled at the thought. Though, a flash of sliver catches her eyes. Seeing that the blonde had left his oh so precious chocolate.

A cat like, mischievous smile cames across her face she she quickly glances around. Before picking it up and biting a piece off of it. As delicious as ever. Though perhaps stolen sweets always are.

[editorandchief]

Hell Hath No Fury | Part III

Requested: Yes. SEND SOME REQUESTS!!

Warning: descriptions of violence, mentions of infertility

Summary: Chess not checkers. One | Two

You hear the shouts and gasps around you, as stumble backwards attempting to steady yourself as you carried your child in your arms. You feel your child being taken from your arms as you finally loos balance falling to the ground, you place your hand over your midsection. Pulling your hand away. you see the red dripping down your palm.

"Guards! Guards!" Someone called out, looking up to the person standing above you, you lock eyes with Alys Strong. 

"How dare you?" Lucerys sneered at the older women as he pulled his sword, before it could touch her neck it was knocked away. pushing Alys behind him Aemond steps up to Luce.

"Someone call for the Maesters!" Rhaenerya called out. "And have this women taken to the dungeons." She said dropping down to attend to the princess bleeding on the ground before her eyes close.

***

You wince once as the needle once again while the maester closes your wound, your hisses of pain are the only thing filling the deafening silence that surrounds you, your husband and the maester.  

"I will have milk of the poppy delivered for the pain princess." Mellos informed. 

"Thank you maester." You replied with a strained smile. 

Collecting his materials, he quietly exit the room leaving you and Aemond alone.

After a few moment of silence Aemond feeling your glare on the side of his face as he attempts to avoid your gaze. 

"I couldn't-." Aemond started. "I couldn't imagine what you must be going through right now." 

"Did you bring her here?" You asked narrowing you eyes for any sign dishonesty. "Did you bring that woman here, to court?"

"of course not."

"Of course not." You scoffed. "Because its not like you have a history with her, of putting her before your family, and now she has arrived at court to take the lives of me and my children and I'm to believe it's not under your influence."

"How could you ask thi-."

"How could you defend her!" You shouted. "Before you me, before your son! You defended that whore in front of the entire court, now the women who tried to take the lives of our children still lives because you care more to have a place to put your cock then your own sons." You screamed, looking towards the door you see Lucerys accompanied by his family.

"Luce." You whimpered out as he rushed to your side taking a seat on the bed he wraps his arms around your shaking figure. "I was so scared."

***

Aemond departed soon after the arrival of Luce and his family, most of whom also left at your please to make sure that your children were safe. 

"What will happen when he takes her for a mistress? What if she tries to harm me? what if she tries to harm my children? I care not for my life, but please don't let anything happen to my children." You pleaded to him as you gripped his shirt.

"I care for you." Luce said firmly leaning closer to you. "And I care for the boys just as much and I won't let anything happen to any of you."

Staring into his eyes its silent between you both before you lean in and attach your lips to his. Reaching your hand out you push your fingers through his dark curls as you pull him closer, without thinking Lucerys runs his hand down your waist causing you to gasp in pain. 

"I'm sorry," He says as he attempts to catch his breath. "I should not have." 

"Please don't apologize...not for this." You plead bringing your hand down to rest on his cheek. "I often wonder what it would be to have married you, how happy we might be." 

Leaning his head down to touch yours Luce closed his eyes and let put a breath. "As do I."  

Pulling him closer to you, you press your forehead against him. "I must ask a favor from you." You sighed out. "I know that Alys is being held in the dungeons...and I wish to speak with her."

"I will call for the maesters." 

"Luce-."

"No! Clearly you have gone mad." He rebuttals pulling away. "Why on earth would you wish you speak to that woman after all she has done to you?"  

"Because I need answers, Luce." You replied. "I need to know why she- I don't know. Why she- and Aemond will not give me answers and I feel like if I don't know I will live in fear and confusion and I can-."

"okay okay okay." Luce relents pulling you into a his arms. "If this is what you need."

Wrapping your arms around him before resting your head on his shoulder. "Thank you Luce." a smile creeping onto your face. 

***

Walking down to the dungeon on the late hours of the night you cling to Luce as you descend the stair. "Just down there." The guard instructed taking the bag of coins Lucerys offered for his discretion.  

Walking along the hall of cells occupied by thieves and the like you come to the very last and see the woman in question sitting on the cold stone floor two cuffs adorned her hands attached to a long chain nailed to the wall. 

"We've come to ask questions." Luce states stepping forward. "You will answer them if you know what's good for you." 

Alys sat silent on the ground simply glaring at the two royals in front of her. "Why have you come?" You asked quietly clutching onto Luce's arm,. "Was I the only target of your rage? Do you plan to harm my children?" Still nothing was said before she scoffed and turned to face the puddle on the ground that was being fed by a steady drip of water from an unknown location.

Taking a deep breath you squeezed Luce's arm before speaking. "Perhaps, if you were to leave us alone for a few moments." You suggested. "Please Lucerys, it's not as if she could hurt me from in there, if this is the only way she will talk..." You say before he can protest.

"I won't be far." Lucerys said as not only an assurance to you, but as a warning to Alys before turning around and walking back down the hall. 

Once Lucerys was far enough away Alys sat and waited for you to speak, she knew this would happen, that if she had failed in her attempt that you would come for her. She took shuddering breaths waiting for what torture you would see fit to subject her to this time, when something pulled her from her thoughts. 

No....Nothing pulled her from her thoughts. the dungeon that was filled with the echos of groans, coughs, wails and whines of the captured criminals had all ceased. Glancing up Alys' breath hitched as she stared at the drop of water frozen in mid air.

"You know for all your faults." You spoke. "I thought you were smarter than this." 

Snapping her head in your direction she sees that there is no longer a wall of metal bars between you, there is nothing stopping you from killing her.  

"Don't worry Alys, I'm not here to hurt you." You assured. 

"How can you be sure I won't hurt you?" Alys asked shuffling back, attempting to put on a brave face. lifting her chin and stoning her face. "Again." 

"Do you really think if I didn't want you to stab me I would have let it happen?" You smirked at the women as she held a look of shock on her face. "Now your probably asking yourself, 'why would she do this?'," you mocked with a nasally voice. 

"In truth I thought I could forgive Aemond for what he did but, the more I thought about it the more I found myself thinking of ways I could kill him without being caught, Training accident, poison, assassination, suffocating him in his sleep, hell most days I thought to just slit his throat and get it over with." You explained. "But then after three long months...you showed up and publicly attack me! and what does my 'loving' and 'loyal' husband do? he defends you." You let out a joyous laugh.

"After all Aemond is a not only a second son of a second wife but he's also what....three....four seventh in line for the throne and before Jacerys produces an heir, he stands to inherit nothing meaning and the only thing he could give my children is their titles and perhaps a bastard brother if that graveyard you call a womb ever proves fruitful, meanwhile the maesters fear I may never bare children again." You said letting a tear escape you eye before the smile returned. "But I will and that child will be Lucerys', it will be seen as a miracle and yet another strife I have overcome despite my unfaithful husband and his bastard witch mistress. 

"Lucerys is heir to Driftmark and second in line for the throne, he could be King someday if Jacerys were to meet an unfortunate end, after I have my marriage to Aemond annulled Luce and I will request for the Queen to allow us to marry and he will take my children as his own, Armon could one day sit the throne as Aemon would on Driftmark."

"Why? Why go through all this trouble for a man you have no feelings for?" Alys asked.

"Oh I have a great many feelings for my dear husband." You sneered. "Disgust. Shame. Disappointment, but overall...Fury. How dare he humiliate me? Taking me for a fool? To push me aside for the like of the same blood her claimed to despise so much. A lesson needed to be taught, I made the mistake of excluding him from the first but this is one you two will learn together. You may stay in Kingslanding as is Aemond's right, but you will never know a moment of peace, you will always be looked at as the evil, vile, bastard, whore that attacked the princess with her child in her arms. You will be shunned, hated and looked down on as will any children you produce. Aemond has no claim to the throne in Kingslanding, Dragonstone is reserved for the heir and you no claim to Harrenheilm. No Lord or Lady would welcome you to their lands. You wanted Aemond more than anything as he wanted you and now you both will have nothing and no one besides each other." You explained as Alys stares blankly at a wall as your words pierce her mind with the new reality.

 "Plus but just between us girls." You leaned in with a wide grin. "Luce is a far better kisser."

Alys lunged at you as your body glides through the bars, you back against the wall in an attempt to create distance between the two of you, Luce rushed towards to hearing the commotion only to find you cowering against the wall as Alys screamed curses at you.

Wrapping you in his arms Luce made sure to check that she had not harmed you as the guards finally arrived. "Its fine." Luce assured them before glaring at Alys. "Just an animal getting use to her chains." He spat before leading you away and out of the dungeons.

Taglist 🏷️: @watercolorsky @happinessinthebeing

@papichulo120627 @undercoversasa @zillahvathek

@alexa554 @snixx2088 @luv-mia

[gnocchibabie]

The Realm's Tragedy

Chapter 1 - The Porcelain Princess

aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!oc

next chapter --- masterlist --- ao3

Summary: Maevys Targaryen is born into a kingdom overshadowed by calamity. With her mother Aemma Arryn gone, King Viserys consumed by grief, and Princess Rhaenyra adrift in sorrow, young Maevys finds herself at the heart of a fractured family. As she emerges from the shadows of tragedy, she must navigate the delicate balance between the remnants of a broken lineage and the impending storm of a new era.

As the dragons dance, the princess must learn to accept an unforgiving truth: All Must Choose.

Warnings: gore and blood, graphic descriptions of violence/traumatic childbirth

Wordcount: 1.2k

112 AC – King’s Landing

The piercing screams of Queen Aemma Arryn echo through the halls of the Red Keep, filling King Viserys I Targaryen with a sickening dread as he hastily rushes to her chamber. The cries are not those of labor but are more akin of an animal in its final moments. The merriment of the tourney presumes outside the castle walls, unknowing of the chaos that swarms within. 

When Viserys finally pushes open the door, the sight of his wife – disheveled and dripping with anguish – has him rushing to her side. 

Aemma had always had great difficulty bearing children – it was a wonder Rhaenyra had even been brought into this world – but this, this was different. All color had been drained from the Queen, leaving only a layer of cool sweat covering her pale form. Hair sticking to her face, breathing labored, and grip weak on her husband’s hand, the King felt his wife drift further and further away from him.

She looked more spectral than alive.

Aemma.

Viserys looks around to the handmaidens attending to his wife, though they skillfully avoid his gaze.

“Mellos.” The king breathes out, leaving his wife to speak with the maester. 

A grim look paints the face of his most skilled healer, “My King…during a difficult birth, it sometimes becomes necessary for the father to make an impossible choice.”

Viserys blinks incredulously at the man before him as his wife continues with her agony, “Well speak it!” His heart pounds.

“To sacrifice one…or to lose them both.” Mellos replies, voice measured despite the chaos surrounding them. Viserys listens to the man describe the technique taught at The Citadel – the barbaric ritual of cutting the babe from its mother, in hopes it may be saved. The King hears his words, but finds it hard to truly listen to them.

Mello’s stern face wavers for a moment, “But the resulting blood loss-”

“Seven Hells, Mellos.” The King took a deep breath to keep his panic from setting in, from blurring his better judgment. 

The Gods punish me…They set an impossible decision before me. 

Viserys looks back at Aemma once more, seeing his wife has calmed, her pain momentarily subsiding. A handmaid dabs a damp rag to the queen’s pale forehead, and she almost looks serene. He thinks of his son, stirring within her, waiting to come out into this world. To be set forth into the realm he will one day rule. 

Expelling a shaky breath, Viserys turns his back to her, “You can save the child?”

“We must either act now, or leave it with the Gods.” Mellos replies.

It feels as though a piece of Viserys, some portion of his soul deep within, withers away at the choice before him.

All he can muster is a grim nod to his maester as he returns to his wife, one final time. 

Aemma, even despite her current torment, finds a faint smile at seeing her husband once more. Her mind is less clouded, her body less addled with pain as she properly greets her king.

“Viserys…” Her voice is faint and wispy, as though merely speaking was a herculean task. 

Tears cloud the vision of the king, though he hides them with a smile to his wife. His Aemma.

“They’re going to bring the babe out now.”

And so they did. 

Amidst the screams of his wife, a sharp steel scalpel pressed against her soft, swollen belly – blood soon pouring out from within the queen like a deep red sea, staining her linen underdress and the pristine sheets below her. Amidst her thrashing turned feeble attempts of escape. Amidst her moaning turned to fleeting breaths. 

The last thing Aemma Arryn experienced in this world was great pain, and great fear. 

A babe, quiet and still is pulled out from her at last.

“A boy, Your Grace.” Mellos replies, though any celebration from the revelation is soured. 

The infant is silent, and the room grows cold. The King holds the bloody, small thing in his arms and weeps for his wife and son.

“Maester Mellos!” a handmaiden voices, “There is another!”

The room blurs around Viserys as another babe is pulled from Aemma Arryn. With a few strong pats to the infant’s back, it’s bawling fills the room. A flicker of life is breathed into the somber scene.

“A girl, my King.” The maester announces. 

A daughter.

Viserys looks at the small, crying baby now being swaddled in soft linens. Muck and blood wiped from her as her crying continues. Tears blur his vision once more, barely able to see the small patch of white hair crested atop her head. 

For a moment, he is filled with the overwhelming desire to name his newest daughter, Aemma. After the mother she will never know in this life. Though, looking at the ghastly scene before him, he thinks better than to condemn the girl to such a fate. 

A name was a powerful thing, and Viserys was a man of many cryptic beliefs.

Aemma would not do.

“Maevys,” he breathes. A new name, a fresh start, a blank page. “Maevys…my daughter. My princess.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To suddenly be an older sister was an odd thing, Rhaenyra Targaryen had thought.

To suddenly be a motherless child, an even odder one. 

The eldest princess looks down at the babe lying in her fine wooden cradle, swathed in soft cloths. Maevys had finally quieted, after hours of squawking and shrieking, as if her cries should make up for the one’s her brother never had the chance to utter. 

Her sister was small, too small for even an infant. Pale as well, as though all her strength had been drained from her from the mere attempt of being born. 

If you could call it such a thing. 

Rhaenyra was haunted by the news of what had become of her mother. Her mother, once so full of life and laughter and love – reduced to a broodmare of a woman. So much so, that it became her undoing. 

The image of her sister however, soothed the princess. Perhaps a piece of her mother still lay before her.

She had a little sister, a girl to love and cherish and tell stories of their mother to. A girl she and Alicent could parade around with and take under their wings. Is that what sisters did?

Rhaenyra leans closer to the cradle. Did I look like this once?

The infant has all the hallmark Targaryen features: silver-white hair and expressive purple eyes. Perhaps she even had the Arryn look about her, some remnants of their mother. Though, only time would tell.

Rhaenyra feared, though, that the girl would not live very long at all. The babe was a weak looking thing after all. She even heard hushed whispers amongst her mother’s handmaidens, that the maester did not expect the girl to live past a week. The nickname, “The Porcelain Princess” had already begun to circulate throughout the castle walls due to her sister’s delicate state. Though no one would dare utter the words in front of the girl’s father or older sister.

“Maevys,” Rhaenyra breathed and watched as the little girl stirred, as though she already recognized her name, “You must prove them wrong, Maevys. You must stay.” Her voice quivers at the end of her plea, a hand grasping the babe’s cradle so hard, Rhaenyra’s knuckles turn white. 

And so, Maevys did.

Author's Note: hello there! i hope you enjoyed this very depressing and grim first chapter (I promise they wont ALL be like this). this is the beginning of what will hopefully be a pretty lenghty fic, which will come to focus on the ~eventual~ relationship between maevys and aemond. this is my second aemond fic (i am not immune to his charm) and i will be updating this alongside another project that is currently ongoing. because of this, updates may be a little sporadic, but i am dedicated to both series :) i hope you all enjoy this story! i have many ideas for many characters that i cannot wait to put to page and share with you all. thank you so much for reading <3

[novaursa]

- Note: So, I'll give this a go here. Those who followed my work on AO3 will notice some changes, but the gist is the same. Also, please be kind. If you don't like it, just scroll over it. I post stuff for people to enjoy them and escape the burdens of their lives with me for a while. There is no grand conspiracy here. Just read and relax. Also, this is an AU fanfic and my own personal toxic blend of the show and the book(s).

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word count: 9 000+

- Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

Part 1

The air was thick with anticipation and the clang of swords as the tournament raged on in the fields outside King's Landing. Knights clashed in the lists, banners fluttered, and the crowd roared, their cheers echoing through the castle walls. Yet inside the royal chambers, the atmosphere was tense and fraught with fear.

Queen Aemma Arryn was in labor, her cries of pain mingling with the distant sounds of celebration. King Viserys I Targaryen paced the length of the chamber, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, worry etched deeply into his face. This was the moment he had long awaited, the birth of his male heir. But the labor was not progressing as it should.

Maester Mellos hovered nearby, his brow furrowed as he consulted with the midwives. "The babe is in breech, Your Grace," he said, his voice grave. "We cannot turn it. If we do not act soon, we will lose them both."

Viserys halted, his heart pounding. "What can be done?" he demanded, though he feared the answer.

"We can attempt to save the child," Mellos replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the decision. "But it will mean sacrificing the queen."

The king's breath caught in his throat. He looked at Aemma, her face pale and slick with sweat, her eyes filled with agony and desperation. She had given him so much, had borne the burden of his ambitions and dreams. And now, he was faced with a choice that would haunt him forever.

"Aemma," he whispered, kneeling beside her and taking her hand. "My love, they say... they say they can save the babe."

Aemma's eyes met his, wide with fear and pain. "Do what you must," she gasped. "Save our child, Viserys. Promise me."

Viserys felt his heart shatter, but he nodded, pressing a kiss to her trembling hand. "I promise."

The maester and midwives moved quickly, their faces set with grim determination. Viserys stood back, his hands shaking, as they prepared for the terrible task. He could hear the clamor of the tournament outside, a cruel reminder of the celebration that had turned into a nightmare.

The room was filled with the sounds of Aemma's cries and the maester's steady instructions. Viserys felt his world narrowing to this moment, every second stretching into an eternity. And then, a piercing wail broke through the tension.

"It's a boy," one of the midwives exclaimed, holding up the tiny, wriggling form. The babe's cry was strong, a sign of life and promise.

Viserys felt a brief surge of relief, but it was short-lived. "Wait," the maester said, his eyes widening in surprise. "There is another."

The midwives worked quickly, and soon another child was brought into the world, a girl this time, smaller and silent. The room fell into a hushed silence as they examined her, worry etched on their faces.

"She is not crying," one of the midwives whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys stepped forward, his heart aching. "Vaella," he said softly, naming her after an ancient Targaryen ancestor. "My daughter, Vaella."

The maester nodded, though his expression remained grave. "She lives, but she is weak."

The twins were placed side by side, Baelon strong and crying, while Vaella lay silent and still. Viserys looked down at them, his heart torn between joy and sorrow. He reached out to touch Vaella's tiny hand, and in that moment, her eyes fluttered open, indigo and bright, meeting his with a quiet intensity.

"She will be strong," he murmured, a fierce determination filling him. "She will live."

The room was filled with the mingled sounds of the babes and the distant roar of the tournament, a poignant reminder of the life and death that intertwined in the halls of power. Viserys knew that this day would be remembered, not just for the birth of his heirs, but for the choices and sacrifices that had marked its passing.

...

A few hours later, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen arrived at the nursery, her heart heavy with grief for her mother. She had loved Aemma deeply and the pain of her loss cut through her like a blade. The celebrations outside had turned into whispers of tragedy, and the joy of new life was mingled with the sorrow of death.

Rhaenyra’s steps were slow and measured as she walked through the halls, her mind reeling from the news. She understood, intellectually, why her father had made the choice he did, but it did little to soothe the anger and resentment boiling within her. She had wanted a brother, yes, but not at the cost of her mother’s life. And now, not only had she lost her mother, but her father had chosen a name for her sister without consulting her. She had wanted her sister to be named Visenya, after their legendary ancestor.

As she entered the nursery, she found the room softly lit and quiet, save for the occasional murmur of the maids tending to the infants. Rhaenyra’s gaze fell first upon her brother, Baelon, lying peacefully in his cradle, a small dragon egg nestled beside him, warm and glowing with promise.

"He's so small," she whispered to herself, reaching out to touch Baelon's tiny hand. His fingers curled around hers instinctively, and she felt a pang of tenderness mixed with her sorrow.

Then, she turned her attention to the cradle beside her brother's. Her newborn sister, Vaella, lay there, wide awake and silent. Vaella was pale, almost translucent, with an ethereal quality that unsettled Rhaenyra. Unlike Baelon, there was no dragon egg to keep her warm, yet the babe seemed content, her indigo eyes staring up at Rhaenyra with a calm intensity.

Rhaenyra knelt beside the cradle, her heart aching. "Hello, Vaella," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I'm your sister, Rhaenyra."

"Hello, little sister," Rhaenyra said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Vaella’s cheek. The baby did not react, her gaze unblinking. "Father named you Vaella, but I would have called you Visenya. A name worthy of a queen."

Vaella’s tiny hand moved slightly, as if reaching out, and Rhaenyra took it gently in her own. She marveled at how small and delicate Vaella was, a stark contrast to the strong and robust Baelon.

"She doesn't cry," one of the maids said quietly, approaching Rhaenyra. "She hasn't made a sound since she was born."

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes never leaving Vaella's face. "She will be strong," she said, echoing her father's earlier words. "She has to be."

The maid hesitated before speaking again. "Your Grace, we were instructed to place a dragon egg in Vaella's cradle as well, but..."

"But what?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone sharp.

"We couldn't find one that seemed... right," the maid replied, her voice faltering. "The eggs are all warm, but none of them felt suitable for her."

Rhaenyra’s gaze hardened. "Then find one," she ordered. "She deserves the same chance as Baelon."

The maid bowed her head and quickly left the room. Rhaenyra turned back to Vaella, her expression softening. "I wanted you to be named Visenya. A name worthy of a queen," she whispered, brushing a finger gently across Vaella's cheek. "But Vaella is a strong name too. You will make it strong."

Vaella’s eyes remained fixed on her, unblinking and serene. Rhaenyra felt a strange sense of calm wash over her, as if the silent babe was imparting some of her tranquility.

She leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur. "I will protect you, Vaella. I will protect both of you. Mother's gone, but you have me. And I will not let anything happen to you."

Rhaenyra stayed there, watching over her siblings, her heart heavy with the weight of her promises and the sorrow of her loss. She knew that the days ahead would be fraught with challenges and dangers, but in that quiet moment, surrounded by the fragile beginnings of new life, she found a glimmer of hope and determination.

The nursery was a haven of calm amidst the storm, and as the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Rhaenyra vowed that she would honor her mother's memory by standing strong for her family, no matter the cost.

...

The next day dawned with a hushed stillness that seemed to permeate the entire Red Keep. The jubilation of the previous day had been tempered by the tragedy of Queen Aemma's death, but the court still held a flicker of hope in the promise of the newborn twins. Servants moved quietly through the halls, attending to their duties with a solemn air.

In the nursery, the maids and servants who had tended to the twins throughout the night were greeted by a scene of unexpected and harrowing sorrow. The once lively Baelon, who had been sleeping peacefully beside his dragon egg, was now eerily still in his cradle. His tiny chest no longer rose and fell with breath, his eyes closed in eternal slumber.

The discovery sent a shockwave through the nursery. Gasps of horror and grief filled the room as the realization settled in. The King's heir, his long-awaited son, was dead. The dragon egg that had been placed beside him now seemed like a cruel mockery of the life that had been so abruptly extinguished.

"Fetch the Maester," one of the servants choked out, her hands trembling as she tried to comprehend the tragedy before her. "Quickly!"

Maester Mellos arrived swiftly, his face a mask of concern as he took in the scene. He approached Baelon's cradle with a heavy heart, gently placing his fingers against the babe's tiny neck, hoping against hope for a sign of life. There was none. He bowed his head, his heart sinking with the weight of the loss.

As Mellos turned to the cradle beside Baelon's, a sudden and piercing wail filled the air. It was a sound so unexpected and startling that it caused everyone in the room to freeze. Vaella, the silent and still babe, had come alive with a cry that seemed to resonate with a power far beyond her fragile form.

"By the Seven," Mellos muttered, his eyes wide with astonishment. He moved to Vaella's side, noting the newfound vitality in her eyes, the strength in her cries. She was more alive now than she had been since her birth.

The servants exchanged uneasy glances, their grief for Baelon now mingled with a sense of unease. Mellos looked down at the wailing Vaella, his mind racing. It was an old superstition, a whisper from the past: when one twin died, the other sometimes took their soul, their strength. It was said to be a bad omen, a dark portent.

Mellos kept his thoughts to himself, though the notion unsettled him deeply. "It is a tragedy," he said aloud, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Princess Vaella has found her voice, it seems, but the loss of Prince Baelon is a heavy blow to us all."

One of the servants, a young woman with tear-streaked cheeks, looked at Mellos with a mixture of fear and confusion. "What does it mean, Maester?" she asked. "Why now?"

Mellos sighed, shaking his head. "I do not know," he admitted. "But we must inform the King. This loss... it will cripple him."

The servants nodded solemnly, their hearts heavy with the task ahead. As they prepared to deliver the devastating news to King Viserys, Mellos turned back to Vaella. The babe had quieted, her cries giving way to a strange, serene silence. He couldn't shake the feeling that something profound had shifted in the balance of life and death within this room.

"I will note this in my journal," Mellos murmured to himself, making a mental note to document the strange events surrounding the twins. He would keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the memory of Vaella's piercing wail would haunt him for years to come.

As the maids and servants moved to carry out their somber duties, the weight of the tragedy settled over the Red Keep like a shroud. The joyous celebrations of new life had been overshadowed by death, and the realm would feel the ripples of this loss for years to come. King Viserys, now a father and a widower, would have to navigate the treacherous waters of grief and responsibility, his heart forever marked by the sorrow of this day.

...

The day of the funeral dawned cold and overcast, the sky heavy with clouds that mirrored the somber mood of the assembled mourners. All gathered before the grand pyre that had been erected outside the Red Keep, a stark testament to the loss of both Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon. The scent of incense and the crackling of torches filled the air, but a profound silence hung over the gathering, broken only by the distant sound of waves against the shore.

King Viserys stood closest to the pyre, his shoulders slumped and his eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights of weeping. His grief was a palpable thing, weighing down the very air around him. He seemed almost a ghost of himself, hollowed out by the dual tragedies that had befallen him.

A little further down, Rhaenyra stood with her newborn sister Vaella cradled in her arms. She held the babe tightly, as if drawing strength from her tiny, warm presence. Vaella was silent, her indigo eyes wide and watchful, taking in the scene with an uncanny stillness.

Behind Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon Targaryen watched with a mixture of sorrow and concern. He stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. "It's time," he said softly. "Your father needs you now."

Rhaenyra turned her tear-streaked face towards her uncle, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and resignation. "I will never be a son," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And neither will Vaella."

Daemon's expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "You are stronger than any son, Rhaenyra. And your father needs that strength now more than ever."

Taking a deep breath, Rhaenyra nodded. She stepped forward, feeling the weight of her duty pressing down upon her young shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the gathered nobles and courtiers upon her, their silent expectation adding to her burden. She glanced at her father, who seemed lost in his own world of sorrow, barely aware of his surroundings.

With tears streaming down her face, Rhaenyra looked up at Syrax, her beloved dragon, who waited patiently beside the pyre. The golden beast’s eyes glowed with a fierce intelligence, and she seemed to understand the gravity of the moment.

"Dracarys," Rhaenyra commanded, her voice breaking.

In an instant, Syrax unleashed a torrent of dragonfire. The flames roared to life, consuming the pyre in a brilliant blaze that lit up the overcast sky. The heat was intense, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh. The mourners stepped back, shielding their faces from the searing heat, but Rhaenyra stood her ground, her eyes fixed on the flames.

The crackling of the fire was accompanied by the soft sobs and murmurs of those gathered. The loss of their queen and the young prince was a blow to the realm, and the grief of the people was a reflection of the profound sorrow felt by their king.

Rhaenyra looked down at Vaella, her tiny face illuminated by the firelight. "You are all I have left of her," she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her sister’s forehead. "I will protect you, always."

Vaella gazed up at her, silent and solemn, as if she understood the weight of her sister's words. Rhaenyra felt a fierce protectiveness surge within her. She might never be the son her father had wished for, but she would be strong for him, for her family, and for her realm.

As the pyre burned, Rhaenyra stood with her sister in her arms, a silent vow forming in her heart. She would honor her mother's memory, and she would ensure that Vaella grew up knowing the love and strength that had defined their mother. The flames roared higher, a testament to the fire that burned within the Targaryen bloodline, a fire that Rhaenyra vowed would never be extinguished.

...

Six months had passed since the tragic deaths of Queen Aemma and Prince Baelon, and King Viserys had made a decision that shocked the realm. He chose to marry Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his Hand, Otto Hightower. This alliance was seen by many as a strategic move to stabilize the kingdom, but it also stirred whispers and discontent among the nobles. In a further surprising move, Viserys named his daughter Rhaenyra as the heir to the Iron Throne, a decision that defied tradition and set tongues wagging throughout Westeros.

Another year passed, and Queen Alicent gave birth to a son, Aegon. The realm celebrated the birth of a male heir, but the decision to place him in the nursery with Vaella, who continued to grow normally and thrive, added an interesting dynamic to the royal family. Despite Rhaenyra's attempts to give her sister a dragon egg to hatch, Vaella showed no interest in any of them. After several unsuccessful tries, Rhaenyra stopped bringing the eggs, accepting that Vaella was different in her own way.

The connection between Aegon and Vaella was immediate and profound. Vaella's quiet presence seemed to calm the newborn prince, who basked in the comfort of his half-sister's company. This bond often agitated Rhaenyra, who felt a mixture of protectiveness and jealousy. She would frequently 'steal' Vaella away from the nursery, taking her for walks around the Red Keep or in the gardens, much to the dismay and complaints of the servants. Aegon would become fussy and cry until Vaella was returned to him, a fact that both frustrated and amused Rhaenyra.

One sunny afternoon, Rhaenyra and Vaella were walking through the lush gardens of the Red Keep. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided a serene backdrop. Vaella, now a curious toddler with pale blonde hair and indigo eyes, held tightly to Rhaenyra's hand, her steps wobbly but determined.

"Do you like the flowers, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, kneeling down to pick a bright red rose and handing it to her sister.

Vaella nodded, her eyes wide with wonder as she examined the flower. "Pretty," she murmured, her voice soft and clear.

Rhaenyra smiled, but her expression quickly turned somber. "You know, sometimes I wish things were different," she said, more to herself than to Vaella. "I wish Mother were here to see you grow. She would have loved you so much."

Vaella looked up at her sister, her indigo eyes filled with an understanding far beyond her years. "Mama," she said simply, reaching up to touch Rhaenyra's face.

Rhaenyra's heart ached with the weight of her sister's innocence and the loss they both shared. "Yes, Mama," she whispered, hugging Vaella tightly. "But you have me, and I will always be here for you."

As they continued their walk, they passed a group of servants who were nervously whispering among themselves. One of them, a young maid, approached Rhaenyra hesitantly. "Your Grace, Prince Aegon is very fussy. He won't stop crying without Princess Vaella."

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling the familiar pang of frustration. "He can wait a little longer," she replied curtly. "Vaella needs fresh air and sunshine."

The maid bowed her head, retreating with a worried glance. Rhaenyra led Vaella to a shaded bench under a sprawling oak tree, lifting her sister onto her lap. "You know, Vaella, sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right," she confessed, brushing a strand of hair from Vaella's face. "But when I'm with you, it feels like everything is okay."

Vaella looked up at her with a solemn expression. "Love Nyra," she said, wrapping her small arms around her sister's neck.

Rhaenyra felt tears prick her eyes, but she blinked them away, smiling through her sadness. "And I love you, my sweet Vaella," she whispered. "Always."

As they sat together in the peaceful garden, the bond between the sisters grew stronger, a beacon of light amidst the complexities of court life and the looming shadows of their past. The challenges ahead were many, but in each other's company, they found solace and strength to face whatever the future held.

...

Two years had passed, and Vaella continued to grow normally, blossoming into a lively child. She spent her days in the company of her half-brother Aegon, who refused to be parted from her for long. This inseparable bond often infuriated Rhaenyra, who cherished her moments alone with Vaella but had to contend with Aegon's tantrums whenever his sister was taken away.

Despite Rhaenyra's best efforts, Aegon and Vaella were rarely separated. The young prince's attachment to his half-sister was so strong that the servants, exasperated by Aegon's constant cries, eventually allowed the two children to sleep in the same crib. It was the only way to ensure Aegon's peaceful slumber.

In the royal chambers, Alicent Hightower, now visibly pregnant with her second child, often expressed her concerns to King Viserys about this arrangement. One evening, as she lay in bed with Viserys beside her, she broached the subject once more.

"This is not healthy, Viserys," Alicent said, her voice tinged with frustration. "Aegon is far too dependent on Vaella. They should not be sleeping in the same crib. It's not proper."

Viserys, weary from the day's duties, sighed and rubbed his temples. "They're just children, Alicent. They'll grow out of it. Let them be."

Alicent's eyes flashed with irritation. "It's not just about them growing out of it. It sets a bad precedent. Aegon should be learning to be independent, not clinging to his sister all the time."

Viserys shrugged, clearly not wanting to engage in another argument. "They're happy, and they're safe. That's all that matters."

Alicent opened her mouth to retort, but then thought better of it. Instead, she turned away, fuming silently. Her pregnancy had made her more sensitive to the disturbances in the household, and Aegon's dependency on Vaella was just one of many concerns weighing on her mind.

Meanwhile, in the nursery, Rhaenyra watched as Aegon and Vaella played together. Aegon's laughter echoed through the room as Vaella chased him, her own giggles filling the air. Rhaenyra felt a mix of love and exasperation as she approached them.

"Vaella, come with me," Rhaenyra said, holding out her hand. "Let's go for a walk."

Aegon's face immediately crumpled, and he clung to Vaella. "No! Vaella stays here!"

Rhaenyra's patience was wearing thin. "Aegon, you can't always have her with you. She needs to spend time with me too."

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his eyes filling with tears. "No! Vaella stays!"

Rhaenyra sighed, knowing that any attempt to separate them would end in another tantrum. She knelt down and gently pried Aegon's hands from Vaella. "I'll bring her back soon, I promise."

As she led Vaella out of the nursery, the sound of Aegon's wails echoed down the hallway. The servants exchanged resigned looks, knowing it was only a matter of time before Vaella would be brought back to soothe the young prince.

In the gardens, Rhaenyra and Vaella walked hand in hand. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the path. Rhaenyra looked down at her sister, her heart aching with a mix of love and frustration.

"Why do you let him cling to you so much, Vaella?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone softer now that they were alone. "Don't you want to have time just for us?"

Vaella looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes. "Aegon needs me," she said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "He cries when I'm not there."

Rhaenyra's heart softened at her sister's words. She knelt down to Vaella's level, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I know he does, but I need you too, Vaella. You're my sister, and I love you."

Vaella smiled and wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck. "I love you too, Nyra. Always."

As they embraced, Rhaenyra felt a renewed sense of determination. She would find a way to balance her love for Vaella with the demands of their unusual family dynamic. No matter the challenges, she would protect and cherish her sister, just as she had promised on that fateful day by the pyre.

Back in the royal chambers, Alicent lay awake, her thoughts troubled. She placed a hand on her growing belly and sighed. The future seemed more uncertain than ever, but she vowed to do whatever it took to ensure the safety and well-being of her children. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind remained filled with the complexities of their intertwined destinies, each step a delicate dance in the ever-shifting sands of power and family.

...

Vaella was six years old, and her fascination with dragons had only grown with time. Despite her lack of interest in dragon eggs, her eyes would light up whenever she saw Syrax, Rhaenyra’s majestic golden dragon. One crisp morning, Rhaenyra decided it was time for her sister to experience the thrill of flying.

Rhaenyra led Vaella to the Dragonpit, where Syrax awaited. The dragon’s eyes gleamed with intelligence as Rhaenyra approached, her scales shimmering in the early morning light. Vaella’s excitement was palpable, her small hand gripping Rhaenyra’s tightly.

“Are you ready, Vaella?” Rhaenyra asked, a smile playing on her lips.

Vaella nodded eagerly. “Yes, Rhaenyra. I want to fly!”

As Rhaenyra helped Vaella climb onto Syrax’s back, the young girl’s laughter filled the air, a sound of pure joy and exhilaration. With a final check to ensure Vaella was secure, Rhaenyra mounted behind her and gave Syrax the signal to take flight.

The dragon’s powerful wings beat against the air, lifting them off the ground. Vaella’s eyes widened in wonder as the Red Keep grew smaller below them, the world unfolding in a breathtaking panorama. The wind whipped through their hair, and Vaella’s laughter echoed in the skies.

Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon was throwing a fit. He had watched in dismay as Rhaenyra took Vaella away, his cries growing louder with each passing moment. Alicent, now heavily pregnant with her third child, tried to soothe him, but Aegon was inconsolable.

“Where is Vaella?” Aegon wailed, tears streaming down his face. “I want Vaella!”

Alicent knelt beside her son, her patience wearing thin. “Aegon, you need to learn to be apart from Vaella. She has other things to do, and you need to be strong without her.”

Aegon shook his head vehemently, his face red with anger and frustration. “No! You can’t take Vaella away from me! Rhaenyra can’t take her away either!”

In his tantrum, Aegon grabbed one of his toys—a wooden dragon—and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. His screams grew louder, and Alicent’s attempts to calm him seemed only to fuel his rage.

“Aegon, please,” Alicent said, her voice strained. “This behavior is unacceptable. You must learn to control yourself.”

But Aegon was beyond reason, his cries echoing through the halls of the Red Keep. Alicent stood, her hands clenched at her sides, her irritation mounting. She had tried to reason with Viserys about their son’s dependence on Vaella, but he had merely shrugged it off, much to her annoyance.

As Aegon continued to scream for Rhaenyra to bring Vaella back, Alicent felt a surge of frustration. She stormed out of the nursery, determined to find Viserys and make him understand the gravity of the situation.

She found him in the council chamber, discussing matters of state with her father, Otto Hightower, and other advisors. Ignoring the decorum, Alicent marched up to him, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Viserys, we need to talk,” she said, her voice low but fierce.

Viserys looked up, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Alicent, what is it?”

“It’s Aegon,” she said, struggling to keep her composure. “He’s in the nursery throwing a tantrum because Vaella is not there. He’s become too dependent on her, and it’s not healthy. You need to take this seriously.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alicent, they’re just children. Siblings often form close bonds.”

“This is more than that, and you know it,” Alicent snapped. “He can’t be apart from her for even a moment without falling apart. This dependency will only grow if we don’t address it now.”

Viserys looked at her, seeing the worry and frustration etched on her face. He nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll speak with Aegon. But give them time, Alicent. They’re still so young.”

Alicent sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering frustration. “Thank you, Viserys. I just want what’s best for them.”

Meanwhile, high above the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella soared through the skies on Syrax. The city of King’s Landing spread out below them like a tapestry, and Vaella’s eyes sparkled with wonder.

“This is amazing, Rhaenyra!” Vaella shouted over the wind, her laughter infectious.

Rhaenyra smiled, her heart swelling with pride and love for her sister. “I knew you’d love it, Vaella. There’s nothing quite like flying.”

As they flew, Rhaenyra felt a sense of peace. Despite the challenges and frustrations that awaited them on the ground, up here, they were free. She vowed to cherish these moments with Vaella, to protect and nurture her sister as best she could. For now, they had the sky, and that was enough.

...

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the Red Keep, Rhaenyra and Vaella returned from their exhilarating flight on Syrax. The dragon landed gracefully in the courtyard, and Rhaenyra helped Vaella down, her heart still racing from the thrill of their adventure. The moment their feet touched the ground, Aegon came running toward them, his face streaked with tears and his cries echoing off the stone walls.

"Vaella!" Aegon wailed, rushing to her and wrapping his small arms tightly around her. "You’re back!"

Vaella hugged him back, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I’m here, Aegon. I’m here."

Rhaenyra watched, her annoyance simmering beneath the surface. "Aegon, you can’t just cling to Vaella like that all the time," she said, her tone sharp. "She needs her own space too."

Aegon looked up at Rhaenyra, his eyes filled with defiance and tears. "You can’t take her away from me! She’s mine!"

Rhaenyra’s patience was wearing thin. She knew it was foolish to argue with such a young child, but the possessiveness in Aegon’s voice grated on her. Vaella was the last connection she had to their mother, and the thought of sharing her sister in this way was intolerable.

"Vaella is not yours, Aegon," Rhaenyra snapped, her voice cold. "She is her own person, and you don’t own her."

Aegon’s face crumpled, and he let out another wail, his small body shaking with the force of his tantrum. "No! No! Vaella is mine! You can’t have her!"

The servants in the courtyard exchanged weary glances, clearly exasperated by the scene unfolding before them. Vaella stood in the middle, unsure of what to do, her eyes darting between her sister and her brother.

"Aegon," Vaella said softly, trying to soothe him. "It’s okay. I’m here now."

Alicent, drawn by the noise, arrived in the courtyard, her face set in a mixture of concern and frustration. "What is going on here?" she demanded, her gaze shifting from Rhaenyra to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with anger as she looked at Alicent. "Your son doesn’t understand that Vaella isn’t his to command," she said sharply. "He needs to learn some boundaries."

Alicent’s expression hardened. "Rhaenyra, he’s just a child. He doesn’t understand these things yet."

Rhaenyra’s temper flared, and she took a step forward. "And he never will if you keep coddling him like this! Vaella is not his to cling to every time he wants. She’s my sister too, and I won’t have her treated like a toy!"

Alicent’s face went pale, and she took a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. "This isn’t helping anyone, Rhaenyra. We need to find a way to help Aegon understand without making things worse."

Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with tears of frustration. "Vaella is all I have left of my mother. I won’t let him take her from me."

With that, Rhaenyra turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving the courtyard in tense silence. Alicent watched her go, a sigh escaping her lips. She turned her attention back to Aegon, who was still clinging to Vaella, his sobs quieter but no less heartbreaking.

"Come here, Aegon," Alicent said softly, kneeling down to his level. "It’s okay. Vaella isn’t going anywhere."

Aegon looked up at her, his face streaked with tears. "But she left me. Rhaenyra took her."

Alicent gently pried his hands from Vaella and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. But sometimes Vaella needs to do things with Rhaenyra too. You’ll see her again soon, I promise."

Aegon nodded, sniffling, but his grip on Vaella’s hand remained tight. Vaella, sensing his distress, squeezed his hand back, her expression one of quiet understanding.

Alicent sighed, looking at the two children. "Let’s get you both inside. It’s getting late."

As she led them back into the Red Keep, she couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of worry. The tensions between Rhaenyra and Aegon were growing, and she knew that unless something changed, these small conflicts could become much larger as they all grew older. For now, she focused on comforting her son and ensuring that Vaella felt secure, hoping that they would find a way to navigate these troubled waters together.

...

Fifteen-year-old Vaella Targaryen sat quietly beside her father, King Viserys I, in his chambers. The room was filled with the intricate model of Old Valyria that Viserys had been painstakingly working on for years. The delicate spires and towers of the ancient city gleamed under the soft light of the candles, casting intricate shadows on the walls. Vaella's small hands delicately placed a tiny bridge between two towers, her face scrunched up in concentration.

Viserys, now looking much older than his years, his health visibly deteriorating, watched his daughter with a fond smile. Despite his efforts to hide it, Vaella knew he was unwell. The signs were clear in the way he moved, slower and more deliberate, and the occasional wince of pain that crossed his features.

"You're doing wonderfully, Vaella," Viserys said, his voice soft but filled with pride. "You have a steady hand."

Vaella smiled up at him, her indigo eyes bright. "Thank you, Father. I love working on this with you."

Viserys nodded, his gaze drifting to the model before him. "It's a piece of our history. A connection to our roots." He paused, then turned to her. "How was your time with your nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys?"

Vaella's face lit up. "It was interesting. Maester Mellos was teaching us about Targaryen history, the stories of our ancestors. Then Laenor told us about the great sailors who ventured all the way to the Summer Isles. I love hearing about their adventures."

Viserys chuckled, a raspy sound that ended in a slight cough. "I'm glad you're learning and enjoying your time with them. It's important to understand where we come from." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "And how is Aegon handling the changes?"

Vaella's smile faded slightly, and she frowned, her brow furrowing. "Not very well, Father. He doesn't like it when I'm away. He gets upset and still sometimes throws tantrums."

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon has always struggled with separation. He has a strong bond with you."

Vaella nodded, looking thoughtful. "I know he loves me, and I love him too. But sometimes it's hard. He doesn't understand that I need to spend time with others too."

Viserys placed a gentle hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's not easy being the center of someone's world. Aegon needs to learn that you have your own life, your own interests."

Vaella looked up at him, her eyes filled with determination. "I'll help him understand, Father. I'll be patient with him."

Viserys smiled, his eyes softening. "You're wise beyond your years, Vaella. Your kindness and patience will serve you well." He paused, his expression turning more serious. "And how are you, my dear? How are you handling all these changes?"

Vaella shrugged slightly. "It's a lot, but I have you and Rhaenyra. And I love spending time with my nephews. They make me laugh and I enjoy learning with them."

Viserys nodded, feeling a pang of pride and sorrow for his young daughter. "You're a strong girl, Vaella. Stronger than you know. Always remember that."

Vaella hugged her father tightly, feeling the frailty in his embrace but also the warmth of his love. "I will, Father. I'll always remember."

...

In a quieter corner of the Red Keep, Aegon paced back and forth, his young face twisted in frustration. His younger brother, Aemond, sat nearby, trying to focus on a book but finding it impossible with Aegon's incessant complaining.

"They took her again, Aemond! They took Vaella to spend more time with Rhaenyra and her bastards," Aegon fumed, kicking at a loose stone on the floor. "They think those boys are more worthy than me!"

Aemond looked up from his book, his blue eyes sharp. "You shouldn't talk like that, Aegon. It's dangerous."

Aegon scoffed, his face a mask of indignation. "Why shouldn't I? Mother calls them bastards all the time. Everyone knows it's true."

Aemond closed his book with a sigh, setting it aside. "Just because Mother says it doesn't mean you should repeat it. It's disrespectful, and it will get you into trouble."

Aegon glared at his brother, his anger unabated. "You’re just jealous because Vaella likes me more than you."

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued despite his annoyance. "Why is Vaella so special to you, Aegon? Why do you always want her around?"

Aegon’s expression hardened. "You're stupid for even asking that, Aemond. She just is. Nobody loves me like Vaella does. She understands me."

Aemond rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "That's stupid. She's just a girl. She can’t make everything better."

Aegon stepped closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "Shut up, Aemond. You don't understand anything."

Aemond shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Maybe I don't. But I heard Maester Mellos talking to Mother once. He said Vaella ate her twin. Maybe that’s why you think she’s so special. She’s got something extra from her dead brother."

Aegon’s face contorted with a mixture of horror and fascination. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond smirked, enjoying the shift in power. "It’s true. Mellos said Vaella didn't cry when she was born, not until her brother died. Maybe she took something from him. Maybe that’s why you feel so close to her."

Aegon stood silent for a moment, absorbing his brother’s words. Then, a twisted smile spread across his face. "Good. If her dead brother gave her something extra, then it's better for me. He would have taken her from me too."

Aemond frowned, not expecting that reaction. "You’re strange, Aegon. You know that?"

Aegon shrugged, a hint of madness in his eyes. "Maybe. But Vaella is mine. And no one will take her from me. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone."

Aemond sighed, shaking his head. "You’re going to get us all in trouble one day, Aegon. Mark my words."

Aegon ignored his brother, his mind already returning to thoughts of Vaella and the frustration of being separated from her. He would find a way to keep her close, no matter what it took.

…

The morning sun cast long shadows over the Dragonpit as Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Aemond, and Vaella made their way to the massive structure. The air was filled with the heady scent of dragon musk and the sound of wings flapping. Inside the pit, three dragons awaited their riders, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. Vaella stood quietly by Aemond's side, the two of them the only ones without dragons to bond with. While Aemond's frustration was evident, Vaella seemed content, her serene demeanor a stark contrast to her younger brother's visible agitation.

As the dragons were led out one by one, Vaella watched with a mix of awe and quiet longing. When Sunfyre appeared, his golden scales glinting brilliantly, Aegon eagerly grabbed Vaella's hand and pulled her along. "Come on, Vaella, let's attend to Sunfyre together."

Vaella allowed herself to be led, her eyes widening as they approached the magnificent dragon. She gently stroked Sunfyre's scales, feeling the warmth emanating from his body. Aegon stood beside her, his pride evident as he showed off his bond with the dragon. Vaella smiled softly, her affection for her brother momentarily overshadowing her usual frustrations with him.

Later, once the dragons were fed and content, Aegon let go of Vaella's hand and turned his attention to Aemond. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that Vaella did not like. Aegon, Jacaerys, and Lucerys huddled together, whispering and giggling before calling Aemond over.

"Come here, Aemond!" Aegon shouted, his voice filled with feigned excitement. "We found a dragon for you!"

Aemond's eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and suspicion. He approached cautiously, glancing back at Vaella for reassurance. She gave him a small, supportive smile, but her unease grew.

As Aemond drew closer, the boys stepped aside to reveal a pig adorned with makeshift dragon wings and a painted snout. "Behold, the Pink Dread!" Aegon announced with mock grandeur, barely able to contain his laughter.

Jacaerys and Lucerys burst into laughter, pointing at the pig and doubling over with mirth. Aemond's face turned bright red with humiliation, his eyes welling up with tears. Vaella's expression darkened, her initial amusement giving way to anger.

"Aegon, Jace, Luke, that's enough!" Vaella's voice was sharp, cutting through the laughter. "How dare you humiliate Aemond like this?"

Aegon's laughter faltered as he met Vaella's furious gaze. "It was just a joke, Vaella. We didn't mean—"

"Do I deserve the same?" Vaella interrupted, her voice cold. "I don't have a dragon either. Is this how you plan to treat me too?"

Aegon stumbled over his words, his face turning pale. "No, Vaella, I didn't mean—"

But Vaella had already turned on her heel, her expression stormy as she walked away from the Dragonpit. Aegon rushed after her, desperation in his voice. "Vaella, wait! Please, don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

Vaella stopped and spun around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "You always do this, Aegon. You act without thinking and hurt the people who care about you. Aemond looks up to you, and this is how you treat him?"

Aegon reached out, but Vaella stepped back, shaking her head. "I thought you were better than this."

"Vaella, I'm sorry," Aegon pleaded, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hurt you or Aemond. Please, forgive me."

Vaella took a deep breath, her anger still simmering but her voice softening slightly. "Apologize to Aemond. Make it right with him. And think before you act next time."

Aegon nodded, his eyes filled with regret. "I will. I promise."

As Vaella turned and walked away, Aegon stood there, watching her go with a heavy heart. He knew he had to make amends, not just with Aemond but also with Vaella. The bonds of family were fragile, and he had to learn to cherish and protect them.

Inside the Dragonpit, Aemond stood alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vaella approached him, her expression softening. "I'm sorry they treated you like that, Aemond. You deserve better."

Aemond looked up, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Vaella. You're the only one who seems to understand."

Vaella hugged her brother tightly. "We'll find our own dragons one day, Aemond. Until then, we have each other."

As they walked away together, the bond between them strengthened, a promise of loyalty and support in a world filled with uncertainty and strife.

…

That evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, the events of the day weighing heavily on her mind. The candles flickered softly, casting gentle shadows on the walls, as she tried to find some semblance of peace. Her thoughts were interrupted by a quiet knock on the door.

“Vaella, it’s me,” Aegon’s voice came through the door, hesitant yet determined.

Vaella sighed, already knowing why he was here. “Come in, Aegon.”

Aegon entered, closing the door behind him. He looked uncertain, his usual bravado tempered by a mix of guilt and frustration. “I wanted to apologize again. The idea was Jace and Luke’s, not mine.”

Vaella made a grimace, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Then why does it reek of you, Aegon?”

Aegon’s irritation flared, and he stepped closer, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Why do you care so much about annoying Aemond? He’s just—”

“He’s my brother too, Aegon,” Vaella interrupted sharply, her eyes blazing. “Just like you are.”

Aegon pressed on, his voice lower but intense. “But you love me more, don’t you?”

Vaella frowned, seeing the familiar possessiveness in Aegon’s eyes. It had not diminished with time, if anything, it had grown. “Aegon, I will always love you. But I also love Jace, Luke, Aemond, and even little Joffrey. We’re all family.”

Aegon stepped even closer, their faces now mere inches apart. “But you love me more, right?” he asked, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper.

Vaella’s heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a whirlwind of love, frustration, and understanding. She met his gaze steadily, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, Aegon. I love you more.”

Aegon’s tense expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead, a gesture that held both affection and possessiveness. He then began to shed his attire, his movements slow and deliberate. Vaella watched him, her own feelings a mix of resignation and affection.

“Aegon,” she warned gently, “if your mother finds out we’re sharing a bed again, she’ll yell at both of us.”

Aegon shrugged, climbing into her bed with a dismissive smile. “Let her yell. I don’t care. Come here.”

Vaella’s resolve wavered, and eventually, she couldn’t help but smile. She slipped into the bed beside him, the ritual familiar and comforting. They had been sharing a bed since they were babes, a habit that had persisted despite Alicent’s disapproval.

As they lay together, Aegon wrapped his arms around Vaella, holding her close. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his embrace was soothing, a reminder of their unbreakable bond despite the chaos around them.

They didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, they lay in the quiet, drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Vaella felt Aegon’s breath against her hair, his hold on her gentle yet possessive. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax for the first time that day.

“Vaella,” Aegon murmured, his voice soft in the darkness. “I promise I’ll never let anyone come between us. Not Rhaenyra, not anyone.”

Vaella sighed, her heart aching with a mixture of love and sadness. “I know, Aegon. And I’ll always be here for you.”

They held onto each other, finding solace in their shared closeness. The world outside might be fraught with tension and uncertainty, but in this moment, they were simply a brother and sister, bound by love and loyalty.

…

Alicent Hightower strode through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, her frustration mounting with each step. She had been looking for her eldest son, Aegon, to confront him about the cruel prank he and Rhaenyra’s sons had played on Aemond. Finding his chambers empty had only intensified her annoyance, as she knew exactly where he would be—once again with his half-sister, Vaella.

Alicent had tried her best to separate the two as they grew older, understanding the potential complications their bond could bring. But no matter her efforts, Aegon always found his way back to Vaella, their connection unbroken. She couldn't help but recall Maester Mellos’ words about Vaella being strange since birth, and the implications of that observation gnawed at her.

Meanwhile, in Vaella's chambers, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to Alicent's rising tension. Vaella and Aegon lay in her bed, still entwined in their embrace. Aegon’s lips trailed down her cheek to her neck, eliciting a soft hitch in her breath. She clutched at him gently, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

“Aegon,” she whispered, her voice breathy with both pleasure and concern, “promise me again you won’t mock Aemond like that again.”

Aegon’s kisses paused for a moment as he sighed. “I promise,” he murmured before resuming his tender exploration. His hands roamed over her curves, their touch growing more familiar and intimate with time. His movements against her nightgown became more urgent, her quiet moans filling the room.

Just as Aegon’s urgency peaked and he found release, spilling his seed onto Vaella’s thigh, the door to her chambers swung open. Both Aegon and Vaella sat up abruptly, alarmed and disheveled.

Alicent’s worried frown deepened as she took in the sight before her. She quickly closed the door behind her, her gaze intense. “Did you do it?” she demanded, her voice strained with a mix of anger and fear.

Vaella blushed deeply, realizing the insinuation behind Alicent's question. “No, Mother. We didn’t… we never go that far,” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other.

Alicent sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly with relief, though her irritation remained. She turned her focus to Aegon. “And what about the pig, Aegon? The Pink Dread?”

Aegon deflected, his tone dismissive. “It was Jace and Luke’s idea.”

Alicent scolded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t lie to me, Aegon. You were just as much a part of it.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and lay back on the bed, clearly unwilling to continue the conversation. “Fine, whatever,” he muttered.

Vaella interjected, her voice calm but firm. “I made him promise not to mock Aemond again, Mother.”

Alicent’s gaze softened slightly as she looked at Vaella. Despite the tension, she recognized the sincerity in her stepdaughter’s words. “Good. That’s good,” she said quietly. Before leaving, she turned back to them, her expression resolute. “This is the last time you two will share a bed.”

Vaella nodded, understanding the gravity of Alicent’s words but knowing deep down it was a promise neither she nor Aegon intended to keep. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alicent gave them one last look, a mixture of concern and resignation in her eyes, before she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

As the door clicked shut, Aegon sat up again, his demeanor shifting from defiance to a more contemplative mood. “She won’t keep us apart, you know,” he said softly, reaching out to take Vaella’s hand.

Vaella squeezed his hand gently, a small smile playing on her lips. “I know, Aegon. But we should be careful.”

He nodded, pulling her closer. “Always,” he promised.

They lay back down together, the quiet of the room wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. In the stillness of the night, they found solace in each other's presence, knowing that no matter what, they would face the world together.

…

The meeting of the small council was underway in the grand chamber of the Red Keep. The air was thick with the scent of burning candles and the tension of unresolved conflicts. Rhaenyra, dressed in her regal black and red attire, sat at the head of the table, her face composed but her eyes betraying the urgency of her thoughts. King Viserys, though visibly weakened by his illness, was present, his presence lending an air of gravitas to the proceedings. Alicent Hightower, her face a mask of controlled composure, sat beside him, her eyes watchful and calculating.

As the discussions turned to matters of succession and alliances, Rhaenyra seized the moment to present her proposal. "To ease the tensions between our families," she began, her voice steady and clear, "I propose that my son, Jacaerys, be betrothed to Helaena. This union would strengthen our family bonds."

A murmur ran through the room, and all eyes turned to Alicent, who clenched her hands in her lap to keep her composure. "And to further show goodwill," Rhaenyra continued, "when Syrax lays her next clutch of eggs, Aemond may choose an egg for himself."

Alicent's face tightened, her distress at the idea of her daughter marrying a boy widely rumored to be a bastard threatening to show. She forced herself to remain calm, her voice measured as she replied. "While your proposal is... thoughtful, Princess, I counter with a suggestion of my own. Let Aegon and Vaella be engaged to each other instead."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger, but she controlled her temper. "That is out of the question," she said firmly. "Vaella deserves more than a life tied to Aegon."

Viserys, who had been silent, finally spoke up, his voice weak but resolute. "I agree with Rhaenyra. Aegon is my son, but he is not suitable for Vaella."

Alicent's composure slipped for a moment, her eyes blazing with frustration. "You did nothing to sever the link between them, Viserys. And now you dispute this match? How can Rhaenyra's son be good enough for Helaena, but our son is not good enough for Vaella?"

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples. "Aegon is impulsive and lacks the qualities necessary to care for someone as precious as Vaella. She deserves a kind and understanding partner."

Alicent stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. "This is not about what Vaella deserves," she snapped, her voice shaking with barely controlled anger. "This is about your favoritism, your willingness to sacrifice my children’s future for the sake of Rhaenyra's."

Rhaenyra remained seated, her expression unyielding. "Alicent, this is not about favoritism. It's about what is best for Vaella and the realm. Jacaerys and Helaena's union would benefit everyone."

Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, her frustration and anger boiling over. "I will not allow my daughter to be used as a pawn in your game, Rhaenyra. This discussion is over."

With that, Alicent turned and stormed out of the chamber, her mind churning with resentment. How could Rhaenyra's bastard be deemed good enough for Helaena, yet Vaella be too good for her son? The injustice of it all gnawed at her, fueling her determination to find a way to secure her children's future.

Back in the council chamber, an uneasy silence settled over the room. Viserys looked tired, his earlier resolve waning. "Let us continue," he said quietly. "There are other matters to discuss."

Rhaenyra nodded, her mind already moving to the next topic, but the tension from the earlier confrontation lingered. She knew that Alicent's anger was far from quelled and that the coming days would bring new challenges. But for now, she focused on the task at hand, determined to protect her family and secure a future where they could all find peace.

…

Vaella Targaryen noticed the change in the atmosphere of the Red Keep after the birth of her sister Rhaenyra's third son, Joffrey. The castle felt like a simmering pot, ready to boil over. The departure of Harwin Strong and his father, Lyonel, back to Harrenhal only added to the tension. Whispers and sideways glances became more frequent, and the sense of unease permeated the halls.

One afternoon, as Vaella was wandering the corridors, she overheard some of the servants talking in hushed tones. "Did you hear? Princess Rhaenyra is taking her family to Dragonstone."

Vaella's heart skipped a beat. The idea of her sister leaving was unthinkable. She hurried through the winding passages, her mind racing with worry and confusion, until she found Rhaenyra in her chambers, packing her belongings.

"Rhaenyra!" Vaella cried, bursting into the room. "Is it true? Are you leaving for Dragonstone?"

Rhaenyra turned to her, her face calm but her eyes betraying the storm of emotions within. "Yes, Vaella. We are leaving."

Vaella felt a lump in her throat. "But why? Father will be devastated. And I can't bear the thought of losing you. Please, you can't leave me here."

Rhaenyra walked over to her sister and placed her hands on Vaella's shoulders. "You know why I must leave," she said gently. "The situation here is becoming untenable. For the safety of my children and myself, we need to be away from the court and its intrigues."

Vaella's eyes filled with tears. She knew the truth about the parentage of Rhaenyra's children, but it mattered little to her. They were her nephews, and she loved them dearly. "But people will talk no matter what you do," she said, her voice trembling. "Why can't I come with you?"

Rhaenyra sighed, her heart aching at the sight of her sister's distress. She pulled Vaella into a tight embrace. "You are so brave, Vaella," she whispered. "But I need you to stay here and look after our father. His health is failing, and he needs someone he can trust by his side."

Vaella clung to Rhaenyra, her tears soaking into her sister's dress. "I don't want to lose you," she said, her voice muffled.

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, looking into Vaella's indigo eyes. "You won't lose me. We'll write to each other, and I'll visit whenever I can. But you must promise me that you'll be strong and take care of Father. He needs you more than ever now."

Vaella nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of the responsibility. "I promise," she whispered.

Rhaenyra kissed her sister's forehead, a bittersweet smile on her lips. "You are my heart, Vaella. And I know you will do great things. Stay strong, for both of us."

As Rhaenyra continued to pack, Vaella stood by, feeling a mix of sorrow and determination. The castle felt more oppressive than ever, but she knew that her sister was right. She had to be strong for their father, to be the anchor he needed in these troubled times.

The day Rhaenyra and her family left for Dragonstone, Vaella stood beside her father, watching the dragons take flight. The sky was filled with the beating of powerful wings, and Vaella felt a tear slip down her cheek. She glanced at Viserys, who looked frail and weary, a shadow of the king he once was. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

"Don't worry, Father," she said softly. "I'll be here for you. Always."

Viserys looked down at his youngest daughter, his eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. "Thank you, Vaella," he whispered, his voice trembling. "You are my strength."

As the dragons disappeared into the horizon, Vaella felt a sense of resolve settle over her. She would honor her sister's trust and protect their father, no matter the cost.

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟤: 𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖯𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗌

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Canon-Divergence, Targ!Cest, Typical Misogyny, Just Daemon, A Simple Conversation about Daemon, Some Foreshadowing, Mentions of Daemon & Slight Jealousy

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Father!Corlys Velaryon ✘ Daughter!Reader, King’s Small Council ✘ Teen!Rhaenyra Targaryen ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, Teen!Alicent Hightower ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, Teen!Rhaenyra Targaryen ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Returning to The King’s Small Council very late would cause a disturbance and Princess Rhaneyra could care less. As long as Y/N, Alicent, and Rhaenyra were seen together, everything would be alright and light confessions would rise.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k+

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @username23345 @fae-the-wanderer @hippivanhan34 @harjasblog @feyresqueen @ithemaduh @poopietomuch @starless-nightz @yelenaslyubov @chittakii @flowerluzx @laiahernandeeezzz @dvrkhcld @lizzieswife101

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter! If you wanna be tagged in this book, comment below and say ‘future tag’! Also go check out my tiktok page @/localgirlie, where I post videos relating to this fanfic! gif credit to @/bonniebirddoesgifs

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝟐: I apologize for being an unannounced hiatus, school got heinous quick already, so yeah that’s my bad. I promise I will try not to make this a habit because I’m posting next month, but I will do my best to keep you updated.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝟑: Also if you like Daemon, then don’t read this, reader is NOT a lover of him. Later in the book, reader will grow to tolerate him, that’s it and all.

🌊 ✘ 🔥

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟤

𝖲𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝗇𝖾: 𝖤𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖮𝗇𝖾

𝟏𝟏𝟏 𝐀𝐂

𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

••••

Two guards opened the heavy wooden doors, allowing you and Rhaenyra to saunter inside to view the members of the King’s council already engaged in discussion. Lord Corlys Velaryon, your dear father, was currently informing the council, displaying a map of their conflict of interest.

At the head of the council table, there sat King Viserys, and His Hand Ser Otto Hightower sitting on his rightward side.

On the King’s leftward side, Lord Lyonel Strong, Lord Mellos, and Lord Lyman Beesbury had taken their seats, leaving your father, Lord Corlys Velaryon, sitting directly ahead of the King.

“…They call him ‘The Crabfeeder’ due to his inventive methods of punishing his enemies.” Your father’s voice was the first to be heard.

“And are we meant to weep for dead pirates?” King Viserys retorted, letting the situation fly over his head.

The Princess walked ahead of you, going directly to her father as you immediately headed over to the wine table.

“No, your grace.” Lord Corlys replied, only to be interrupted again.

“Rhaenyra and Lady Y/N, you’re late.” King Viserys gently reprimanded the two young girls. “King’s cupbearers must not be late, leaves people wanting for cups.”

“My apologies, Your Grace,”

“It’s quite alright, Lady Y/N, I know Rhaenyra roped you into her plans,”

The Princess kissed her father’s cheek. “I was visiting mother.”

About to pull away from her father’s grasp, he steadied her wrist, tugging her forward again, now catching a whiff of her scent. “On dragonback?” He questions with a low tone.

Rhaenyra detached from her father’s grip, venturing forward to the wine table, and grabbing a pitcher.

“Hey, Your Grace at Prince Daemon’s urging the crown has invested significant capital in the re-training and re-equipping of his City Watch.” Lord Beesbury announces, “I thought you might urge your brother to fill his seat on the council and provide an assessment of his progress as commander of the Watch.”

By then, Rhaenyra had already refilled her father’s wine, moving on to the next person.

Once your father was reseated in his chair, you moved toward him, the wine pitcher held steady in your hand. You could sense his gaze on you, the cold yet disapproving glare set upon you.

Trying your best to ignore his disapproving glare, you plastered on a small smile and poured his wine. As soon as his cup was filled, you ventured closer to Rhaenyra, finding more ease with her presence. You send her a faint smile, receiving one in return as you both intently listen.

“Do you think Daemon is distracted by his present tasks? And that his thoughts and energies are occupied?” King Viserys asked Lord Beesbury.

“Well, one would hope so, considering the associated costs,”

The King nodded his head, “Then let us all consider your gold well-invested, Lord Beesbury,” You politely patted the said lord’s shoulder, filling up his cup as he thanked you with a firm head nod.

“I would urge that you not allow this Triarchy much latitude in the Stepstones, Your Grace.” Corlys spoke, seeking reason in his tone, “If those shipping lanes should fall, it will beggar our ports.”

“The crown has heard your report, Lord Corlys, and takes it under advisement.” Otto Hightower claims, his expression unreadable as always.

You made eye contact with Rhaenyra, both girls resisting the temptation to roll their eyes at the older man’s irritating voice. It’s a wonder how Alicent handles her father every time, she’s truly a survivor.

“Shall we discuss the Heir’s Tournament, Your Grace?” Otto asks the King, turning back to him.

“Oh gods, please do, this subject is getting boring,” You mutter to yourself, plastering a fake smile when Otto sends a glance your way.

You had to bite away your incoming insult, brewing into your mind, rather than focusing on pouring him another glass. Quite frankly, you didn’t care about Lord Otto’s opinions of you, he knew well enough to not pester you, yet you struggled to not make a mockery of him.

“I would be delighted,” King Viserys smiled, mindlessly picking at his food, “Will the maesters’ name say prediction hold, Mellos?”

“You must understand that these things are mere estimations, my King, but we have all been poring over the moon charts and we feel that our forecast is as accurate as it can be.” Lord Mellos explains to the council, his tone is dry as ever, “The cost of the tournament is not negligible. Perhaps we might delay until the child is in hand?”

Lord Lyonel sighs, “Most of the lords and ladies are certainly on their way to King’s Landing already. To turn them back now–“

“The tourney will take the better part of a week.” The King interrupted the advisors, his tone charismatic and hopeful, “Before the games are over, my son will be born and the whole realm will celebrate.”

“We have no way of predicting the sex of the child,”

“Of course, no maester’s capable of rendering an opinion free of conditions, are they now?” He chuckles slightly, still chewing on his food. “There’s a boy in the Queen’s belly, I know it.”

You caught Rhaenyra’s saddened gaze, smoothly approaching to be at her side, going to the wine table again.

“And my heir will soon put all of this damnable hand-wringing to rest himself.” He declares loudly, having fed up with the insistent questions. “That will be all, council is dismissed.”

King Viserys’ last statements fell on deaf ears for the two young ladies, who became wrapped in their own thoughts.

Immediately, your hand reaches out to settle on top of Rhaenyra’s hand, squeezing it softly. She made no reaction to the kind and simple gesture, so you knew she was deep in thought. Of these past couple of days, the hassle of her mother’s pregnancy and her father’s insistence on producing a son. Worst of all, Rhaenyra had expressed her concerns to deaf ears, feeling overlooked by the pressure of a brother. It was stressful for the entire family of three.

A son for the Iron Throne. His male heir. His next successor. A gender in which Rhaenyra is not, meaning her father will never see her fit to be.

••••

After the hostile meeting of the small council members was finally adjourned, the men slowly departed, off to complete their other duties.

Unlike the two young ladies rushing out of the council meeting, arms looped together and tantalizing giggles filled the corridors. As you passed maids and guards, who bowed in respect and continued their tasks, the two young ladies headed in search of Alicent.

You found your other dearest friend, already occupied underneath the familiar spot, sitting on a blanket with a history book in her hand. When she spotted her two friends, a wide grin overtook her face, and happily waved over, encouraging them to come closer. The Weirwood Tree was a special place for the trio of girls, it was a hangout. Associated with the ideal combination of reviving fresh air and receiving light confessions, the atmosphere was peaceful.

Sitting upright crisscrossing as you face your friends, Alicent doing the same position with Rhaenyra’s head on her lap. You fiddled with the loose strands of your silver hair, listening to Alicent revising Rhaenyra’s studies.

Seemingly, Rhaenyra was bored out of her mind, completely disinterested in the subject as Alicent’s frustration with her beloved friend heightened.

“Did you read it?” Alicent tilted her head asking the silver-haired girl lying on her crossed legs.

“Of course, I read it.” Princess Rhaenyra hummed softly.

“When Princess Nymeria arrived in Dorne, who did she take to husband?” The Hightower girl decided to test Rhaenyra’s knowledge of history.

“A man,” The young royal blandly answered, the disinterest clear in her tone. History always bored the Princess, she sought no interest in it, therefore she never expressed any.

“What was his name, Nyra?” You insisted, poking at her side, lightly pinching her exposed pale arm. She paused, distracted by the small sharp pain, glancing at you, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursued. She dropped the leaf on the grass, primarily attentive to your movements and facial expressions.

Truly, she could never be irritated at you, but the reaction was only an excuse to stare at you. Soon enough, her gaze shifted elsewhere, rolling her eyes, “Lord Something.” She replies with an exhausted sigh.

“If you answer with ‘Lord Something’ Septa Marlow will be furious,” Alicent reminds her Targaryen friend.

“She’s funny when she’s furious,”

You glimpsed at Rhaenyra, tilting your head, and watching her anxious movements.

“You’re always like this when you’re worried,”

It was noticeable and Rhaenyra wasn’t even attempting to hide it. Perhaps, she wanted you to notice and pester her about it.

“Like what?”

“Disagreeable,”

Rhaenyra meets your gaze first and shifts her eyes toward Alicent, both girls reassuringly giving a subtle hint of confessing her concerns. It didn’t take that much for the Princess to confess her concerns in your company, always placing up walls in defense, only for it to crumble quickly. She is often unpredictable during certain times, allowing you to know what she wishes. Although Rhaenyra refuses to be straightforward, mind bouncing with insecurities, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

This conversation was meant to be a revision for the Princess, testing her ability but it drifted to her father’s succession. The potential possibility of her being overlooked when her newborn brother is born and soon named as heir. It made her feel unwanted, her presence vanishing slowly from the castle walls when the delivery day was nearly approaching.

Will she succumb to such a sad fate? To have no one by her side or even hold a regular conversation without the mention of Baelon?

She knows her enthusiasm about a new sibling should be enough, but the thought of being replaced sickened her to the stomach.

“You’re worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son.” You concluded, finishing the small makeshift braid.

“I only worry for my mother.” She corrects you, her energy still somewhat gloomy. Still, the Princess stared down, plucking away a red maple leaf, “I hope for my father that he gets a son. As long as I can recall, it’s all he’s wanted.”

“You want him to have a son?” The auburn teenage girl shockingly pointed out.

“I want to fly with you and Y/N on Dragonback, see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat only cake.” She dismisses the conversation entirely, her tone purely genuine at the wondrous thought.

“I’m being serious,”

“I never jest about cake,”

“Yeah that’s true, I don’t jest about food either,”

“Food is not the discussion as of this moment, Y/N!”

“Right, sorry, Ali.” You sheepishly nodded, a slight wave of embarrassment passed through your face.

Alicent shakes her head, amusement lacing her features, a smile tugging her lips as she returns her gaze to the discouraged princess.

“You aren’t worried about your position?”

“I like this position, it’s quite comfortable having you and Y/N so close by my side,”

“You know what Ali means,”

“Why are you only testing me? Test Y/N too.” Another dismissal from the current topic wasn’t working in Rhaenyra’s favor. Not when the conversation at hand brought out her dejected fear of being replaced and possibly ignored by the realm and her father alike.

You knew the feeling all too well, having a present father but also absent at the same time. Meanwhile, your mother was your biggest supporter, attempting to fill up the distant love that your father so deeply ignores.

“Y/N already knows this, she doesn’t need revision,”

“Sucks to be you, Princess…” You giggled, scoffing when she shoved your shoulder with her hand. Rhaenyra lets out a huff, rolling her eyes as Alicent continues about the history topic.

“Hey, where’d you get that necklace?” Your eyebrows furrowed in intrigue, noticing the new jewelry, reaching out to further analyze it.

“Oh, umm...” She clutched the necklace in her hand, drifting her attention onto the sky, “Daemon gave it to me.”

Did you hear that right? Daemon gave Rhaenyra a priceless necklace. Surely, it wasn’t out of the goodness of his heart, but for his own gain? It’s the only logical explanation, right…?

Was the Princess already perceiving the valryian necklace as too much of her personal value? Will his gift possibly outshine yours?

Upon hearing that statement, you and Alicent shared a confused glance, wanting further elaboration.

“When did he give it to you?” Alicent asked, peering down at the Princess, glimpsing at the valryian steel necklace.

“Just today.” Her eyes fell to yours and Alicent’s as she cleared her throat.

Raising your brows in curiosity, you continued the pestering, “When was he here?”

“Doesn’t matter,” She curtly replied, fiddling with the jewelry. “He left shortly after,”

You hummed silently at her reply, playing with a loose strand of hair, “Why was he here?”

It was imperative to know why he was here. Did she enjoy his company? Was her infatuation with her uncle transforming into something more? Even if it threatened your heart’s desire? You needed answers but Rhaenyra seemed reluctant to give answers.

“He wanted to see me,”

“Alone?”

“Yes, alone.” She repeats, her irritation replacing fake coyness.

You stared at the Princess, unimpressed by her childish behavior, “Where did you meet up with him?”

Were the many annoying questions necessary? Possibly not. Did it give you any sort of ease? Not at all. Was it fun to watch the Princess squirm underneath your unwavering scrutiny and reply with vague answers? Yes, her responses were well-timed.

“In the throne room,”

“Was he sitting on the Iron Throne?”

“Yes, he was–“

“Gods be good, Rhaenyra! Does he have no respect for his own brother?!”

“I met him sitting there! It’s not like he would have listened to me,”

“He still believes he’s to be heir, that’s pure nonsense. Even if there was the tiniest chance of him ascending to the Iron Throne, his impulsiveness would surely cause the kingdom’s early demise. He’s power hungry and bloodthirsty, he’s only of good use to win a war, not start a family with,”

“Do you not like him that much?”

“Perhaps you simply misheard me, I don’t like him at all, I’d rather detest him, he’s like an insistent hound who ruins everything he touches.” You mused, hoping the Princess would surely understand the complexity of this total situation.

A hidden mixture of rage and disgust welled up, coursing through your veins, the familiar Targaryen fire enlightening at the mere desperation of coming forth the longer she remained clueless, or at least pretended to be. But you withhold those overwhelming emotions threatening to speak the truth and lower your tone, sickly calm and collected.

“He should be back at the Vale with his lady wife, Rhea Royce instead of lingering here like a fucking creep. However, I must sympathize with Lady Rhea, to be burdened with the title of being his wife. She is rather beautiful and doesn’t deserve such a Prince as a husband,”

“Y/N is right, from what I heard Lady Rhea is an impeccable woman of taste,”

“I’m not one to resist another’s beauty,”

Turning her head around from you, huffing in jealousy, “Perhaps you should be with Lady Royce instead since you seem so smitten with her,” She retorted under her breath, a burdening unsettling sensation began to form in the pit of her stomach. The pure grimace on her face matched the inner turmoil within her, stirring each time she thought of you and Rhea together. The pairing of the two made her completely forget about Daemon’s surprise visit.

She didn’t like the jealous and possessive nature she gained over you, but it was difficult to bypass, even more so when you complimented another woman’s beauty. Then again, she felt prepared in a way, dreading the day when your wedding day approaches.

What does Lady Rhea have that she doesn’t? She’s a Targaryen princess, she mustn’t stress over the small simple things such as wishing for reciprocated feelings.

Alicent sent her a knowing look at her murmurs, ultimately ignored by Rhaenyra, but settled down.

“Do you feel left out, Princess?”

“No, I’m not. Why should I?”

“Just because I complimented another woman’s beauty doesn’t mean I think any less of you. You’re always in my highest regard, such as Alicent,”

“Good, there’s no need for me to question where your loyalties and love lie.” Her eyebrows relax and a tight-lipped smile appears.

“Although, I must wonder if your feelings had led you astray, reaching into unknown fires that aren’t of your own,”

“You shan’t worry about him, I’m not tarnished yet,”

“If you keep arranging secret meetings with Prince Daemon, you’ll soon be because of him,”

“Do you not trust me, Y/N?” She lets out a bewildered scoff, lifting her head to get a better view of you.

“Of course, I trust you, it’s Daemon I don’t trust, and never will either.” You spoke firmly, refusing to back down.

She exhales tiredly, resting her head against Alicent’s thigh again. “He’s not as bad as you make him out to be,”

“My assumptions are always right, that’s a given. You perceive him in some twisted sort of good light, which I can’t seem to comprehend at all. Look, I care for you deeply, Nyra, and being involved with Daemon isn’t a good idea. He’s a creep and manwhore, don’t throw away your virtue for a man like him. I can only help you to a certain extent and after that, it’s out of my control,”

“I can handle myself,”

“Not around him, right?”

“That was uncalled for,”

“Surely it has the slightest bit of truth,”

“My self-control is of a great deal when involving my uncle,”

“Or lack thereof,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

Alicent quietly scoffs to herself, slamming the book shut and rushing to her feet. You repeated the same movements as your Hightower friend, causing Rhaenyra to lose both girls.

“Where are you two going?”

Rhaenyra groans, her head no longer having its support or the preferred enjoyable company.

“Home. The hour has grown late.” Your friend responded, spinning around to face Rhaenyra once again who’s now walking closer.

“Being knowledgeable is not stupid, Rhaenyra. It’s a power that only a few bold women have, who can outsmart these boisterous lords of the court for either our amusement or our satisfaction.” You stood up to your feet, brushing off any invisible dirt specks of your possibly contaminated dress.

“Princess Nymeria led her Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on 10,000 ships to flee their Valyrian pursuers. She took Lord Mors Martell of Dorne to husband and burned her own fleet off Sunspear to show her people that they were finished running.” During her summary of Princess Nymeria, she rises to her feet and begins to walk over.

“Was that so hard?”

“No, it wasn’t,”

Just like that, Rhaenyra stepped forward and ripped the page right out of the book, startling Alicent with her defiant actions.

“What are you doing?”

“So you remember,” She throws the torn page into the book.

“If the Septa sees this book, then–“

“Fuck the Septa.” You interrupted, closing the book in her hands.

“Y/N!”

“We’ll be fine, the Septa can’t go against the Princess, it’s considered treason to even do so,”

The trio of girls walked alongside each other, you being in between them, arms looped around the other.

“You two are bad influences,” Alicent chuckles, referring to your defiance.

“That’s why you’re here to keep us in line,”

You snuggled your head into the crook of her neck, meeting her soft gaze and earning a faint smile. Rhaenyra playfully rolls her eyes at your interaction, feeling left out with an unwelcoming sensation bubbling upon the surface, yet internally deciding to keep it to herself, not sparking an unnecessary fuss.

“Oh, and did I mention my gifts for you?” You perked up, lifting your head away from Alicent’s neck, much to Rhaenyra’s surprise.

“Gifts? That’s one word I love to hear,”

“Meet me in my chambers when the night bestows,”

“It better be worthwhile,”

“Shush, Rhaenyra!” Alicent shakes her head at the Princess, before turning to you, hands wringing in front of her dress in a semi-anxious manner, “We can’t wait to see the beloved gifts, Y/N.”

It wasn’t hard to see a warm inviting smile plastered on Lady Alicent’s face, her easy-going personality shining through. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your closest friends with a stupid gift. So you weren’t. By the Gods’ good graces, you hoped they’d adore your gifts or else it’ll be an awkward night to follow afterward.

••••

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[theforgottenmcrmy]

For the Love of Candied Lemons (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: absolutely none, this is purely fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Summary: Princess Rhaenyra's latest craving results in a rather embarrassing incident for you, and a frightening one for Harwin.

A/N: I most fucking embarrassingly am a citizen of the “democracy” that is the US. I hope you can find some enjoyment in this product of my coping, however small. I put enough context in here that you hopefully don’t need to have read it, but this is a one shot idea from a larger story of mine called Growing Strong, the master list of which can be found HERE.

“Seven hells- Princess Rhaenyra’s message said I would find you here.”

Feeling slightly betrayed, but mostly embarrassed, you let out a frustrated huff. “I did not mean for her to send for you.”

“I have no doubt that the Princess’s intent was genuine. She only wants to ensure that you are well,” Harwin placated soothingly. He took another slow step in your direction, glancing about your shared chambers with a look of mild interest as he did so. “Though I am curious as to why you were brought here. Wouldn’t the Maester’s chambers have been more sufficient?”

“Grand Maester Mellos was a rather unfortunate witness to the … incident,” you replied carefully. “He rushed to assist me at once, and our chambers were far closer than his office.”

The maester in question, who had been gathering up the last of his supplies, hummed thoughtfully to himself. Sparing you a small smile, he chimed in, “All things considered, Lady Tyrell, the injuries you sustained could have been far, far worse.”

“But?” you prodded with a smile of your own, not bothering to hide the hopefulness in your tone.

“But, apply this salve a few times a day, ensure the cuts are kept clean, and all shall heal just fine.”

“Thank you, Maester,” Harwin thanked him sincerely. Sneaking in a teasing glance your way, your husband added, “I shall personally ensure that the Lady Tyrell heeds your advice faithfully.”

Grand Maester Mellos bobbed his head in silent acknowledgement, before rising to his feet and leaving the room. As soon as the door your shared chambers closed, Harwin was upon you at once.

“Let me see,” he pleaded, though you knew it was not a demand, but rather a request for your permission. Whenever it came to you, Harwin never acted without it.

You begrudgingly met his inquisitive gaze, and allowed yourself to be subject to his thorough scrutinization of your current state. His careful hand slowly rose alongside your face, and you allowed your head to tilt backward with his gentle guiding, giving him full visibility of the multitude of scrapes that now marred your chin.

After a moment, Harwin dropped his hand, and turned his attention to yours. You presented your palms openly towards him, allowing him to pour his eyes over the additional cuts that littered the otherwise smooth skin. 

Your husband slowly traced one of the more visibly angry gashes, and you flinched involuntarily.

Harwin immediately offered a hushed apology. “What happened, My Love?”

You broke away from his loving gaze, looking down at your palms with shame. “It’s all rather embarrassing… And the truth of it is, I’m still not precisely sure what happened.”

Harwin reached for your hands once more, mindfully grasping at the uninjured sides of them. As you allowed yourself to take some comfort from the gesture, he suggested, “Perhaps it is best you start at the beginning, then?”

“Your sisters and I were strolling the gardens with Princess Rhaenyra,” you recalled. “Suddenly, she wished for some candied lemons.”

Harwin’s expression shifted from one of curiosity to sudden understanding.

As a lady in waiting for Princess Rhaenyra, who had recently discovered herself to be with her first child, you had been adamant in seeing to her every need and whim. While it would have been expected of you, given your official position, Harwin knew that you had placed additional pressure upon yourself to see that Princess Rhaenyra was well looked after. Though your time in King’s Landing had been short in comparison to others, in that time you had quickly developed a genuine kinship with and affection for Rhaenyra, sentiments that Harwin believed were reciprocated.

“The kitchens are so far away from the gardens, as you know,” you continued to explain. “By the time we would have sent word, and then waited for the candies to be prepared… I thought it would have been futile. I volunteered to go to the kitchens myself.”

“And so you did.”

“And so I did,” you confirmed, forcing yourself to meet his eyes once more. “I was on my way from the kitchens, headed back to the gardens. And as I was descending the stairs outside of the Small Council Chambers, I could not see my feet. I think my skirts may have gotten twisted perhaps, and…”

“...And?”

“Before I knew it, my feet were above my head, candied lemons went flying through the air, and I went tumbling down the stairs.”

Despite the situation, you could have sworn the corners of Harwin’s pursed lips flinched upwards.

“I managed to break my fall on the very bottom step with my hands, but not before my chin got a good go of it. Grand Maester Mellos saw everything, naturally. The Seven weren’t so kind as to spare me an audience for this grand mishap. He whisked me away at once to see to these cuts… And, now that things have calmed and some clarity has returned, I believe he also sent a page to inform Princess Rhaenyra of what had transpired. Given your presence now, I assume she in turn sent for you.” You paused briefly, feeling embarrassment overcome you once more. “I still cannot believe you rushed all the way back to the Red Keep from Flea Bottom solely on my account.”

Harwin’s patrols as a Gold Cloak of the City Watch kept him busier more often than not. You had never faulted him for it; copious amounts of your own time was spent carrying out your duties to Princess Rhaenyra.

“Judging by the ominous look on the messenger boy’s face, I did not feel as though I had much of a choice.” Your husband sighed tiredly, his eyes flickering over your various abrasions once more.

Suddenly, he placed a quick, firm kiss on your cheek. You felt them grow hot once more, although this time it was not with embarrassment.

“It pains me to see you injured, even in these small ways,” Harwin confessed. “Though I cannot deny that it brings me great relief to see that these cuts are all you have to show for a ‘tumble down the stairs’... It did not take great effort on my part to imagine the worst.”

You reached for his hands then, ignoring the stinging sensations in them that rapidly followed. “Truly, I shall be quite alright, Dearest. The only thing that was gravely injured today was my pride. A lady of House Tyrell, tripping and bumbling down a staircase like a waddling child? … Gods, I hope my brother never hears of this. He will not let me live this down.”

Harwin rolled his eyes, but the gesture was without annoyance or malice. “Between jousting and tournaments or simply training out in the yard, I am certain Lord Tyrell has taken more than a few falls of his own. An accident was all that this was, My Love. And an accident is certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”

You blushed. “You are kind- too kind, perhaps. While I appreciate your concern, I truly did not wish for you to permanently abandon your post for the day. I will not keep you to myself; go on and return to the city. I shall see you later tonight.”

Harwin scoffed. “Surely you jest. The Commander gave me leave to see to it that you are well. It seems only fair that I should ensure your wellness continues for the duration of the day.”

You smiled. “You wish to spend the day with me?”

Between Harwin’s patrols with the City Watch, and your own duties to Princess Rhaenyra, the opportunity to spend any significant time with one another during the day was seldom found.

You shook your head, attempting to quell your rising hopes. “As much as I love the thought, Dearest, I did promise Princess Rhaenyra those candied lemons…”

“I would not keep you from your duties, either.” Harwin held out a hand to you, standing fast; he was not going anywhere. “Mayhaps you will allow me to accompany my Lady Wife to retrieve more candied lemons from the kitchens?” 

Grinning, you took his hand. As you carefully rose to your feet, you offered him a teasing smile. “How could I ever refuse such a generous and noble offer?”

Harwin winked. “I was hoping you’d be agreeable to it.”

“And why is that, Dearest?”

You intertwined your arm with his, daintily resting your scraped hand on the crook of his elbow. As you leaned into him, and rested your head on his upper arm, Harwin gently turned and began to lead the two of you over to the door. The pace was leisurely, the moment calm and intimate. The realm existed outside the closed chamber door, but for now, the world was comprised entirely of just the two of you.

As Harwin reached for the door handle, he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Lemon candies are replaceable. But you, My Love, are not.”